Empires Collide
by Basilisk9466
Summary: In one galaxy, a mighty Imperium covering millions of systems. In another, an Empire struggling on the edge, looking for any chance to return to grace... crossover with Star Wars. Officially discontinued.
1. Of Wormholes and Wraiths

_Against all expectations (including my own), I've decided to begin this rewrite ahead of schedule. In expectation of the storm of complaints whenever I do something the fanatics among you dislike, there's a very basic rule: You're only allowed to complain about something _once_. If I decide to change it based on what you've said, consider yourself lucky and leave it. If I don't (as is probably more likely), and you want to make your point clear, don't do it in a review. Find the topic in my forums, and say it there, because I'm sick and tired of trawling through reviews which are nothing more than calculated attempts to rip apart the crossover links. Sorry if that comes out hostile, but that sort of situation was what caused the demise of the original. I guarantee that any comments in the forum will be responded to, but if I start getting repeated complaining reviews again, this may well be stopped FOR GOOD. Clear? Thank you._

Admiral Aktar smiled in satisfaction as the last Republic cruiser entered hyperspace. The battle for MI-7576 had been hard-fought, but the last shipyards of the Imperial Remnant were again safe.

For now, at least. Until the next attack.

He sighed. Since they had located MI-7576, the Republic had been waging a constant war on the system, knowing that taking it or destroying the shipyards would essentially cripple the Remnant.

"Damage report," he said.

"Most of the fleet has taken punishment, sir. _Shadowblade_ has taken a pounding, but nothing that will require a full refit to repair. I'm afraid that the _Deathless_ is beyond recovery, though."

"Damn." The _Deathless_ had been one of the Remnant's dwindling number of Imperator-class Star Destroyers. With its loss, only ninety remained. Even backed up by two hundred and thirty Victory-class Destroyers, and the _Shadowblade_ itself, the last Imperial-controlled Executor-class, they were running out of heavy capital ships to defend the Remnant's shrinking territory.

"Get salvage teams on it," Aktar ordered. "Even if the ship itself is too badly damaged, we can at least make use of the wreckage."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir? Battle reports from Ovarlis Minor."

"Thank you, lieutenant."

The Admiral scanned the datapad. It showed nothing good. The squadron of Carrack-class cruisers and Victory-class defending the mining operations in the system had been forced to flee by five Republic Assault Frigates. The mining operation itself was presumed lost.

Yet another speck on the grand scheme of things turned from blue to red. That's how the holo-displays would show it.

Retaking the system was essential. It provided nearly a quarter of the Remnant's capital ship construction resources, and without that, any Remnant ship losses would become that much more serious. While the Republic was spitting out new warships at a rate of knots.

The irritating thing was that the Republic was no longer even officially at war. A few months ago, the Senate had declared that the Galactic Civil War was over, with victory for what had once been known as the Rebel Alliance. Only one of the many Mon Calamari shipyards was still constructing pure warships – mainly the new MC-95 Defender-class battleships, eight-kilometre behemoths that easily outgunned the aging Imperator-class. _Shadowblade_ had once faced – and beaten – two Defenders, but had taken heavy damage in the process and had been forced to withdraw on the arrival of a swarm of Assault Frigates.

That had been the battle that had put him in charge of the entire Remnant, after the death of Moff Gazrile when a lucky proton torpedo had cored the Super Star Destroyer's bridge. He himself had been in command of another battle a few systems away.

"Admiral, transmission from Captain Dathrius – his fleet is under attack by an MC-95 and five Nebulon B frigates. Orders?"

"Send the _Wraith_, _Vengeance_, _Star Hammer_ and ten Dreadnaughts to reinforce him."

Aktar watched as the trio of Star Destroyers moved into the hyperspace vector, led by the Stealth Armoured _Wraith_.

"Admiral, Fareias Prime has sent a message saying that they wish to terminate our trade agreement. They indicate that any attempts to send ships to the planet will be met by a Republic fleet."

"Another? Second system this month… at this rate, the Remnant won't exist in a few years without the Republic having to raise a finger."

There was relative silence on the bridge, leaving the Admiral to his thoughts.

Back when the New Republic had just been the Rebel Alliance, even thinking such defeatist comments was treasonous. Now, it was a matter of course. The Empire might be holding out against the Republic attacks, but that was all it was: holding out. No major attacks on Republic territory had happened for almost a year, and even the routine strikes were an uncommon occurrence.

If the Remnant could just fade away… become the guerrilla influence that the Alliance had been, there might be a chance. But it wouldn't happen. Oh, some of his predecessors had pulled off such tactics, but now the Republic had found their power base. Without sacrificing MI-7576, and other important systems, they could not fade away. Unlike the Alliance, there were no sympathetic factions to the Empire that they could shelter with. No-one else to provide shipyards and resources to maintain the war effort.

Sometimes he considered surrendering to the Republic. They were fighting for a long-forgotten ideal of control, one which had never worked in the first place. If it had worked, the remains of it would not exist here, on the outer rim, as much subject to the constant Republic attacks as to every pirate and renegade hoping that a Star Destroyer's bridge tower would buy them amnesty.

He sighed. He knew why the Remnant could never surrender, of course. He'd known that it was an impossible idea ever since Senate's declaration of peace. They'd be welcomed with open arms, and then quietly put to the sidelines as an embarrassing reminder of an unpleasant blip in history.

The men under his command deserved better than that.

"Admiral Aktar! Two unidentified starfighters entering the system in Sector 9!"

Aktar moved to the indicating officer. "No ID at all?"

"It seems to be an Imperial code, sir, but there are no flights due from that direction. And I've never seen this design before."

"Show me."

A hologram appeared of the fighters. A long, slightly hooked central section dominated the craft, with two long, forward pointing wings at the back. Two large engines extended from each wing, and two vicious-looking weapon on swivel mounts lay halfway along each wing.

"And it's definitely an Imperial code?"

"Yes, sir. The strange thing is that I've never seen one like it, but the computer passes it automatically."

"Admiral, the fighters are requesting permission to dock."

Aktar considered the vessels, and then nodded. "Direct them to the _Shadowblade_'s hangars, but have a stormtrooper division meet us there. If they do cause trouble, we'll be ready for them."

* * *

The ships were definitely impressive, the Admiral thought. Slightly reminiscent of the old X-wings, and the newer E-wings, but with much smoother lines. The black, red-streaked colour made them stand out, even among all the usual bustle in the Super Star Destroyer's hangers. 

The cockpits opened, and one figure climbed out from each.

"You will have no need of your troops, Admiral," said the first. He wore some sort of armour, covered by a long, black cloak. At his belt lay a dangerous-looking blaster, and a metal cylinder.

The realisation came quickly. There was only one creature in the universe that carried such an innocuous device in such military company, and had an Imperial code that computers automatically passed.

"You are Sith…" he breathed.

"Very good, Admiral," the other said with a mirthless smile. "I am Lethkas. This is my apprentice, Kalinda."

Aktar looked at the other pilot for the first time. Kalinda was a beautiful, fragile looking woman. This was offset by the powerful disruptor, the lightsabre, and the diamond-hard eyes.

"I presume that the ID codes were a gift from your old master?" inquired Aktar.

Lethkas smiled again. "They were indeed. Second-hand, though; the originals were from the Emperor's second clone. I was given them by one of his pupils. I never met Palpatine myself."

"May I inquire as to your presence on the flagship of the Empire?"

"Two-fold, Admiral. We are here to make you an offer, and to claim what by the Emperor's command is our right."

"And that right is…" said Aktar, with an unpleasant feeling about the answer.

As though sensing his unease, Lethkas smiled even wider. It was his apprentice, Kalinda, who replied.

"Leadership."

* * *

"Do relax, Admiral," said Lethkas soothingly, as the doors into the briefing room closed. "We are not here to claim the Emperor's position. You lead the Empire now. We respect that. We merely claim a position of power within it." 

"What's this offer of yours, then?" the Admiral replied.

"Have you ever heard of hyperspace wormholes, Admiral?"

Aktar shrugged. "Only as rumours. A naturally-occurring passage into hyperspace that lead to a fixed location. Highly unstable. Considerably quicker than any existing hyperspace technology."

"There is a tale of a Sith Lord, Darth Theralus, who found a hyperspace wormhole into _another galaxy_ around ten thousand years ago. He passed through it, and returned some time later, bringing a tale of a vast Empire, ruled by humans. He had suffered badly during his time there, and was raving mad when he returned – stories of the Force becoming solid and aggressive where just one of his claims. Such stories are unlikely, at best, but the tale was enough to spark Kalinda's interest. I must admit, I was sceptical, believing that it was just a myth. Even if it wasn't, Theralus had returned shortly afterwards to find the wormhole sealed."

"Locating the position of the wormhole took time and effort," said Kalinda. "But when we found it, there was a wormhole there. We passed through, and found a place that was nowhere on our starcharts. We wandered for a time, never staying long in the systems, and found the worlds that Theralus had described." At this she looked slightly chidingly at Lethkas, then continued. "When we returned to this galaxy, I realised that the wormhole was in a state of predictable flux. If it were possible to stabilise that flux, it would be possible to keep the wormhole open… indefinitely. And that is something I now know how to do."

"And you propose that the Empire is moved through this wormhole, and sets up camp in this other galaxy?" said Aktar.

"Not all at once, perhaps," replied Lethkas. "But if the conditions seem to be favourable…"

"And how do we know that we will not be mown down the moment that we start to carve out our little patch?"

"We don't."

"Then why should we risk it? _Master_ Lethkas?"

"The alternative is to stay here, slowly being worn down by the Republic until they don't consider you even worth that. The Empire is over, Admiral! _Remnant_ is the exact term. Just the remains of a once powerful body that can no longer hold its own. Even if you do lose in this new place, you'll die in the knowledge that you were the man that tried to raise the Empire back to its former glory, even if you did fail!"

Aktar looked at the pair shrewdly. Surely the Sith would not take such a risk unless they thought it was worth it. They could be lying, but what would be the point?

"What do you need for this flux-stabiliser?" he asked.

Kalinda grinned like a shark, and handed him a datapad. "Those are the specifications for the space station that would do the job. If construction is begun immediately, it will be ready before the wormhole collapses too far."

* * *

"And you still say that you saw two fighters move into and out of the Warp?" asked the Inquisitor. 

"On my word and in the Emperor's name, yes my lord!" gabbled the trader. "I've seen a few things in my time, honoured Inquisitor, but not even the traitors can do that! I thought we were imagining things, but then Grykk (he's my brother, he runs a fueling station in Alakan) said that he saw the same thing a few minutes later! Now that I know is impossible, nothing can travel that fast, but I know what we saw, sir!"

"Thank you," the Inquisitor said dismissively. "Your statement corroborates with that of several Naval captains, and will be investigated. You will be rewarded for your aid."

"Thank you, my lord! I'll, er, go now, shall I?"

"Yes, yes, off with you."

Inquisitor Tyrathlion was technically a part of the Ordo Malleus, but liked to involve himself in anything that was unusual or threatening in the Imperium. Two fighters capable of Warp travel, and able to move faster than any known vessel while doing it certainly fell into that category… In terms of speed, there were probably more than two. That would make sense. But the ability to use Warp travel...

And as for the shape… they were like nothing in the Inquisition's databanks. Even the Adeptus Mechanicus had drawn a blank. Elegant and minimalist, yet dangerous looking… he would have thought them to be Eldar craft, but they had the wrong basic design.

His contacts in the Adeptus Mechanicus were slavering over the opportunity to analyse one of the ships, hoping to find a lost Standard Template Construction.

Catching up with the ships would be difficult, if not impossible, though. They had been sighted in over a dozen systems, and had only spent a few minutes in each. Some of the more jittery and knowledgeable witnesses had commented darkly about the same tactics being used by the Necrons with their Shroud-class cruisers.

It was nonsense, of course. Whatever technology was being used by the mysterious craft was almost certainly not Necron – no Necron fighter had ever been seen, and many doubted that the robotic menaces even used such vessels. Besides, Necrons did not use Warp travel.

For now, there was nothing to do except place the Navy on alert, and hope that the matter was settled quickly, one way or the other.


	2. Distant Stormclouds

Aktar stared at the portal. It was unlike anything he had ever seen; almost like a blue star that was not quite solid, but made up of shifting layers.

"Construction is going according to schedule?" he asked.

"It was a little slow to begin with, but I… encouraged them to speed up," said Kalinda.

Aktar shivered slightly. Lethkas he could deal with; from what he had seen of the man, he was like any other. But the apprentice… there was something cold and brutal about her.

"And having this station will hold the wormhole open?"

"Not by itself, but it will slow the collapse sufficiently to give ourselves some breathing room. Each end of the wormhole is identical to the other; stabilising this end will stabilise the other. That will give us enough time to construct the other station on the other side."

"Surely construction of something like this would attract attention?" Aktar said suspiciously, eyeing the five-kilometre wide ring.

"Not in the middle of nowhere. The exit aperture is at ten light-years from the nearest system."

"Good."

A nervous-looking ensign approached them, and said "Lady Kalinda, we have completed installation of the basic flux stabilisers and reactor core on the Ring. Shall we test the device?"

"Proceed."

Kalinda watched the station intently as arcs of power flickered between sections, and then into the wormhole itself.

At first nothing happened. Then, with such slowness that it was almost un-noticeable, the spherical anomaly stretched, and flattened. The shifting layers meshed together to create a smooth surface.

For the first time in the weeks that Aktar had known the Sith apprentice, she smiled genuinely. "Yes…" she said. "It works!"

"So is that all that is required?" the Admiral asked.

"For now, yes. Reinforcing the structure, installing backups, adding defences… but the Ring is now operational. We should begin construction on the other station as soon as possible."

"Use whatever you need," Aktar replied, knowing that the offer was a formality. She would probably have done what she liked whether he accepted it or not.

"Admiral, MI-7576 reports that it is under attack. They request our assistance."

"Again? Very well. Set course for the system. Lady Kalinda, will you be remaining here?"

"I will. I will depart in my fighter, then you may reinforce the shipyards." Without another word, she vanished into the turbolifts.

* * *

Many said that he was becoming obsessed with the mysterious fighters, and Tyrathlion had to admit that they had a point. No further sightings had happened for a while, and the Navy had quietly lowered its alert level. Everyone assumed that they had just been a blip.

NO RESULTS FOUND MATCHING SHIP DESIGN

He sighed. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe looking for the other peculiarity; their ability to enter warp space.

He entered the request into the databanks.

NO MATCHES FOUND ON SHIPS WITH THIS ABILITY

"What are the search parameters?"

SHIPS CAPABLE OF ENTERING THE WARP THAT ARE SMALLER THAN THEORETICALLY POSSIBLE, STANDARD RECORDS

"Extend the search to encompass all records, including incomplete and damaged ones."

THIS SEARCH WILL TAKE SOME TIME. CONTINUE?

"Yes, yes."

SEARCH COMMENCING

There was no sound in the Inquisitor's quarters except the faint humming of the machine spirits.

SEARCH COMPLETE. ONE RESULT

"Show me."

DATE: 013.M31

ONE VESSEL SIZE 50 M X 25 M X 10 M IDENTIFIED NEAR FOLLOWING WORLDS: ALAKAN, OPHELIA VII, SOLSTICE, XEPHRYON III, V'RUN, YARANT, NECROMUNDA, SULAIRN

ATTEMPTS TO INTERCEPT VESSEL UNSUCCESSFUL

EYEWITNESS ACCOUNTS INDICATE THAT THE SHIP DESTROYED A TRAITOR SWORD-CLASS FRIGATE THAT ATTACKED IT

RECORDS INDICATE THAT A MYSTERIOUS VESSEL LANDED ON SEVERAL REMOTE AGRI-WORLDS AND TRADED THERE – IT IS SUSPECTED TO BE THE SAME, BUT THIS WAS NEVER CONFIRMED

NO CONFIRMED RECORDS OF COMMUNICATION

LAST SIGHTING 014.M31, NEAR BAKKA

"Any further information?"

ASTROPATHS REPORTED THAT THEY COULD NOT DETECT THE VESSEL NEARBY PRIOR TO TRANSLATION FROM WARP SPACE

NO FURTHER DATA LOCATED – FILES CORRUPTED

Tyrathlion snarled in frustration. So close!

He relaxed. Ignorance is bliss, he thought dryly. A ship a fraction of the size of the smallest known warp vessel capable of using the warp to travel, and able to destroy a Sword-class frigate…

"Any further data on the conflict with the traitor frigate?"

THE SHIP REFUSED TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE TRAITORS' DEMANDS TO HALT. THE FRIGATE THEN OPENED FIRE, BUT WAS UNABLE TO HIT. THE UNKNOWN SHIP THEN FIRED SEVERAL SMALL WARHEADS AND LASER-BASED WEAPONS, WHICH MANAGED TO SNAP THE FRIGATE'S SPINE.

"What of the void shields?"

RECORDS SUGGEST THAT THE SHIELDS ABSORBED THE LASER FIRE BUT WAS UNABLE TO REPEL THE WARHEADS. THE WARHEADS WERE TOO SMALL TO BE TRACKED BY TURRETS, AND CARRIED ENOUGH POWER TO SPLIT THE CRAFT'S HULL OVER FOUR DECKS. THE FRIGATE WAS UNABLE TO TAKE THE STRAIN, AND SPLIT.

More riddles. Warheads powerful enough to destroy an escort ship, yet small enough to evade the turrets.

Ignorance is bliss, he thought again. But an Inquisitor cannot remain ignorant. It is our job to hunt down any threat to the Imperium. If our visitors are back, and a large attack craft can do this, who knows what a full-scale warship is capable of?

ANY FURTHER DATA REQUIRED, LORD?

"No, that will be all."

THANK YOU. THE EMPEROR PROTECTS

A suitable homage, considering the situation, thought Tyrathlion.

* * *

The _Shadowblade_ leapt out of hyperspace, and with the discipline of constant experience, opened fire. The sheer volume of fire crippled the Assault Frigate that had unluckily been right on the Super Star Destroyer's prow.

That still left no less than three MC-95 Defenders, six assorted smaller Mon Calamari cruisers, seven Assault Frigates, and nearly fifteen wings of various fighters.

"Report on our fleet," Aktar ordered crisply.

"The fleet has assembled on the _Wraith_, and is ordering itself around the Golan IIIs, sir. They are able to withstand the attacks of the capital ships, but the sheer number of Republic fighters is beginning to tell."

Aktar swore silently. The Calamari vessels had always tended to carry more fighters for their size than their Imperial equivalents. Add on the hyperspace capabilities of the craft themselves… this was going to be a tough fight.

"Launch all Interceptors and Avengers," he snapped. "Keep the Scimitars in reserve. Helm, move us to skirmishing range of the Republic fleet; don't let us get too close. Tactical, fire every weapon we have the moment you get a lock on something. Concentrate fire if possible, but make sure that every gun is discharging. Keep them distracted. Communications, order Hailfire Base to launch four, and risks be damned. The fleet is too spread out to cope with this, we need to improvise."

"Fighters launching, sir. Avenger leader requests permission to make attack runs on the enemy capital ships."

"Negative, focus on the fighters. Order the defence fleet's fighters to withdraw to holding positions; when Hailfire finishes, it won't be pretty."

"Hailfire Base says that launching equipment hasn't been fully tested, admiral!"

"Tell them if they don't fire now, I'll personally gut that facility."

The bridge slowly descended into the ordered chaos of a Star Destroyer bridge in the middle of a battle. Flashes of light lit up the starscape as the _Shadowblade_'s turbolasers and ion cannons began to open fire. Little explosions begin to play in the space around the Republic and Imperial fleets as shields took fire and fighters played their deadly game.

"Admiral, Hailfire Base reports all four have been launched, and recommend we have turbolasers on standby to destroy any rogues."

Aktar turned to the holodisplay of the battle, and smiled as four new contacts appeared.

"Admiral, the enemy vessels are breaking formation. I'd say that they just spotted our little gifts."

"Turbolasers on the ready," said Aktar calmly.

"Sir, the Republic ships are trying to move out of Hailfire's path, but calculations indicate that we'll get four clean hits."

Aktar turned to look out of the viewport at the distant warships.

"Impact in ten seconds, Admiral."

"Launch the Scimitars. Tell Scimitar leader to form on our prow and await the order to attack."

"Yes, Admiral."

Four blinding flashes lit up the starscape.

"As predicted, Admiral, four clean hits! All three MC-95s and two smaller ships are burning wreckage, five more have taken damage."

"Relay my congratulations to Hailfire Base. The first use of asteroids as an offensive weapon has worked admirably. Order all ships to close on the remnants. All fighters, return to combat and cover the Scimitars. Scimitar leader may make his attack run. Target at will."

"Admiral, the Republic ships are moving to exit vectors. They're retreating. _Python_ requests permission to activate its interdiction fields."

Aktar paused a moment. Letting them escape would give the Republic information on the new defences of the shipyards, notably Hailfire. Conversely, fighting to the bitter end could result in ill-affordable losses.

"Request denied," said a new voice. "If all goes according to plan, any Republic ships or intelligence will be irrelevant."

Aktar turned to see Lethkas smiling faintly as the Republic fleet flickered and vanished.

"Master Lethkas. My apologies, I did not realise you were on the bridge."

The Sith waved a hand. "I intended merely to observe. Your 'Hailfire' weapon is impressive. I heard of asteroids being used in warfare before, but never like this. Tell me, how are they launched?"

"We use salvaged and surplus ion engines to give them most of the thrust. When they are launched, the asteroids are locked into a catapult that gives them an initial boost. Simple, but unfortunately quite resource intensive. Not to mention experimental and unpredictable; a botched launch could cost us dear."

"I can imagine," the other said quietly. "Now that things have become quieter, I believe that I should reveal what we know of this other galaxy to you. Shall we?"

Aktar nodded, and led the way to the command quarters.

"What we know is scattered and possibly inaccurate, since it mostly comes from the records of Darth Theralus. However, what we saw matches some of his notes, and from that we can build up a rough picture of that galaxy. We found evidence of at least four different factions; three of them allied, one of them completely different and possibly at war with the other three. Here are some rough images of the ships we spotted…"

The Sith Lord activated the hologenerator, and a curious ship slightly like a tall, very thin Star Destroyer appeared.

"This seems to be one of their main warships; most of the designs are similar to this one, to the point of almost appearing modular. This ship is eight kilometres long, and heavily armed. We haven't seen one in action, but it is something that we should approach with caution. Fortunately, ships this size are rare." He pressed a switch, and the image changed to a squat, angular ship.

"These vessels are a mystery to us. There is no mention of them in Theralus' records, indicating that they are a newer design. Considering their four kilometre size, they seem underpowered. A military transport, perhaps." The hologenerator changed again to show a huge, viciously beweaponed warship.

"We don't know much about this third faction, as they stick to certain systems. Theralus indicates that they represent some sort of manufacturing arm of the local establishment." Again the image changed. The new ship was completely different from the previous ones, crude in shape and somewhat reminiscent of a shark.

"This is a ship of the fourth faction that we have identified. From what little we have seen of them, they should pose little threat." The hologenerator shut down. "Beyond that, without a scouting mission, we can learn little more. With the Republic fleet in in full retreat, I believe that this is an ideal time."

Aktar nodded, and clicked on the intercom. "Bridge, this is Admiral Aktar. Order the _Venator_, _Deathstrike_, _Rancor_ and _Falchion_ to enter formation with us. Begin making calculations for the hyperspace jump to the wormhole."

He turned to the Sith Lord. "What do you suggest from there?"

Lethkas pondered this for a moment. "Our observations indicate that there is a regular convoy that runs through the middle of a nebula not far from the exit point. An ideal place for an ambush, perhaps..."

* * *

The Lunar-class cruiser _Vigilance_ silently cruised past the flock of transports bound for Xephryon III.

On the bridge, Captain Alcor stood listening to the gentle buzz of a ship running perfectly. A rare occurrence, he mused, one to be savoured.

He walked towards the viewports and looked out at the nebula that the convoy was traversing. An irritating delay, but any other route would add on even more time to the journey. Never mind the fact that xenos pirates often struck in this area. Bureaucracy, as usual, won out.

Not that the prospect of attack worried him. The _Vigilance_ was the veteran of countless battles and had outmatched many opponents, including a rogue Oberon-class battleship that finally succumbed to torpedo volleys after a five hour game of cat-and-mouse.

The piercing whistle of a proximity alert went off, and the bridge entered a sort of ordered pandemonium as the crew scanned for the source of the disturbance.

Ahead of the convoy, the gases parted and something began to emerge.

"All stop!" Alcor barked out. The cruiser juddered as the engines reversed thrust. Around them, the rest of the convoy mimicked the action.

The emerging ship exited the gas pocket, and was revealed as an escort-sized triangle. Another moved out, and then two more.

"Transmit a communication requesting their identity and purpose," ordered Alcor. After all, he thought, they might be Inquisition vessels. They certainly didn't look like Eldar or Ork ships.

The ship's Navigator frowned, puzzled at something.

"Captain, they're ordering us to power down and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be destroyed."

Alcor looked amused. "Four escorts will dictate orders to a Lunar-class cruiser and three Sword frigates? Tell them that the Imperial Navy don't surrender, certainly not to such a pitiful force. Charge void shields, reroute power to the lances and begin loading the plasma batteries."

"Sir, Phoenix Squadron requests orders."

"Hold position near the transports, let _them_ come to _us_. They could be trying to lure us away."

"Sir, energy levels on the enemy ships rising."

The triangles coasted forwards, blue glows emitting from their triple engines. Tiny black specks started appearing below them.

"What are those?" Alcor asked.

"I think they're attack craft, sir." The officer sounded startled, as was Alcor. Warships that small were carriers? They must have minimal weaponry, but they were approaching as confidently as a battalion of Space Marines.

"Turrets at the ready to repel bombers," he ordered. "Get the transports to enter tight formation where their weapons can support each other."

The proximity alert whined again, and the gas above the convoy literally exploded outwards. "What _now_?"

"Another ship must've just entered the area, sir, but we didn't detect any warpholes being formed! Something big to cause that much disturbance!"

Alcor caught a brief glimpse of dark metal in the swirling gas, and then his attention was drawn elsewhere by dull thud of impacts close to hand.

"Those xenos are really overconfident," snorted someone. "Their fighters are strafing us!"

The triple lascannon batteries opened up to try to destroy the swarming black specks, but they were too quick. A blast of flame lit up one of the batteries as it was consumed by the fighters' plasma weapons.

The viewports whitened out as plasma fire poured onto them, and then the ship rocked.

"The bombers arrived, sir," the Officer of the Watch said grimly. "Our turrets are having little or no effect on the attack craft; they weren't designed to face such mobile targets.

"Captain, Phoenix Squadron reports that it is being engaged by the enemy ships and requests permission to attack."

"Give it. Let's see if we can persuade these warpspawned bombers to go after another target."

The vibrations through the deck slowed and then stopped, and the enemy swarms moved off towards their carriers. With the view now clear, Alcor saw quite how outmatched the small force was.

One of the Swords was a mass of flaming debris, and a second was being pounded by plasma weapons with lethal efficiency. The return fire seemed pitiful by comparison, and was having little effect on the triangles.

"All speed ahead! Fire all weapons at the triangles! The _Vigilance_ has never lost a battle, and I do not intend to be the captain that breaks that record!"

There was a cheer that filled the bridge, and the cruiser started moving forwards.

And then jerked to a stop.

"What in the name of the Emperor was that?" Alcor demanded.

"I don't know, sir! Some sort of particle beam has trapped us and is preventing movement!"

"Source!"

"Directly above, sir!"

The other ship.

"Admiral, _Venator_ reports that the last of the smaller ships have been destroyed and requests new orders."

"Set them disabling and capturing the transports," ordered Aktar. "We will deal with the larger one. Tractor beam status?"

"Tractor beams are holding, sir. We had to lock all of them on to keep the ship in place, but it isn't going anywhere."

"Excellent." Aktar turned to pair of Sith standing next to him. "What do you suggest? You know more about this place than I do."

"Capture as many of the transports as possible, and try to break into the cruiser as well," said Lethkas. "Integrating a new warship into the fleet would be more trouble than it was worth, but we might be able to salvage some useful prisoners and information."

The Admiral nodded. "Ion cannons, disable the tractored vessel and then start neutralising the transports before they escape. Commander, prepare your men to board the enemy warship and begin organising troops to capture the transports."

The stormtrooper commander nodded, and hurried off.

"Wait," said Kalinda. "I will accompany the raid on the warship."

Lethkas looked piercingly at his apprentice, who shrugged. "It has been a long time since I tested my skills in serious combat," she said. "This is as good an opportunity as any."

Lethkas returned his view to the starscape in an offhand acknowledgement.

* * *

"I don't care if you can't see the target!" snarled Alcor. "Fire all batteries and lances directly upwards! If we can't destroy whatever is holding us, we're sitting ducks!"

"Captain, the triangles have finished with Phoenix squadron and are attacking the transports."

The _Vigilance_'s captain turned to look towards the fleeing transports and their pursuers. Green streaks of light played from the triangles, stripping away the shields and impacting on the hulls.

To his surprise, instead of exploding, the transports simply coasted along, all systems gone but apparently undamaged.

"What's happening?" he asked, puzzled.

"The nebula is ruining our sensors, sir, but I think that the enemy warships are using some sort of anti-electronics weapon; EMP blasts, perhaps."

The _Vigilance_ jolted as plasma fire and lances burned through the gas towards their invisible assailant, and at almost the same moment green bolts spat back down towards the Lunar-class cruiser.

The void shields tried valiantly to withstand the barrage of energy pouring into them, but the volume of fire overwhelmed them. As the blasts impacted on the hull, chaos erupted around the bridge.

"Lance batteries one through twenty not responding, sir!"

"Port plasma batteries report the loading systems are jammed, sir!"

"Captain, void shields are non-functional!"

"Engines are not responding!"

"Sensors failing!"

"Life support just shut down!"

"Torpedo bays are locked down, sir!"

The damage reports slowed, and then stopped, but the volleys continued.

"What's happened? Why are they not having an effect?" demanded Alcor.

The Officer of the Watch laughed mirthlessly. "There are no other systems or weapons left _to_ affect, sir. We're helpless."

There was a jerk, and the _Vigilance_ slowly started rising through the nebula. Around them, disabled hulks of transports drifted helplessly, the triangle-ships moving through the graveyard of the convoy.

The gases parted above them, and the fourth ship was revealed.

With the nebula it was impossible to see the full extent of it, but it clearly dwarfed an Emperor-class battleship, even a Battle Barge. It seemed to be the same triangular shape as the smaller vessels.

"Emperor protect us," gasped someone.

* * *

The assault shuttle cruised towards the helpless warship, the pilots guiding the troop carrier towards the four kilometre long cruiser.

Kalinda looked at the ship through the cockpit, standing behind the three-man piloting crew.

She stretched out into the force and felt the minds of her enemies. Fear was there… awe at the size of the _Shadowblade_. Anger at being defeated so easily.

This would be an interesting fight. It would be small scale – only fighting to the bridge or computer core and downloading the information, but it would relieve the tedium that had become a constant since going into hiding from the Republic.

"Milady, there does not appear to be a hangar," said the navigator. "We will have to link to one of the airlocks directly and burn our way in."

"Proceed," she said.


	3. Lightning Flash

The navy troopers watched the airlock nervously, shotguns and lasrifles at the ready. They had seen the effectiveness of their assailants' warships – what would the soldiers be like?

The airlock exploded inwards, and they tightened their grips on the triggers, watching for some movement in the smoke and debris.

Plasma bolts shrieked through the air, each finding their target. Half of the twenty soldiers fell, and the others opened fire on the gap.

With terrifying elegance, a lithe figure leapt through the hole, a shaft of pure energy in one hand. Lasfire simply bounced off the blade, and two more troopers fell from reflected fire.

With a slow realisation of doom, the shooting stopped.

Kalinda smiled, and raised a hand. Dark blue lightning bolts spat from her fingertips, earthing themselves in her remaining opponents. Screams echoed through the corridors of the _Vigilance_ as they died in agony.

"Advance," she ordered curtly. Forty elite shadowtroopers spread out from the assault shuttle, blasters at the ready.

The exited the airlock corridor, and were attacked almost instantly. The standard-issue combat shotguns sent hails of razor-like shards towards the Remnant shock troops. Three shadowtroopers fell as the shots found a weak spot in the upgraded stormtrooper armour, but most simply lowered their weapons and fired. The sharp zapping of blasters intermingled with the blast of shotguns and the thunk of flechette launchers.

The last proved devastating against the lightly armoured Imperium troopers. Shards far more effective than the shotgun shrapnel sliced through them like a hot knife through butter, and in seconds the firefight was over.

Kalinda examined her troops, and was pleased to note the iron discipline of the stormtroopers remained. She had learned a great deal about the Remnant and the Empire before it – Lethkas had demanded it – but she had never heard of stormtroopers running from battle. Discipline, loyalty, and absolute ruthlessness. The watchwords of the Carida Stormtrooper Academy. Long gone, of course, since the system's destruction at the hands of the prototype Sun Crusher, but those values were still instilled in the 'stormies' at the Remnant's disposal.

More of the weak enemy soldiers swarmed around a corner, and she watched with a detached air as the shadowtroopers blasted their way through them.

The last trooper fell with a groan as a blaster bolt slammed into his neck, and Kalinda nodded, satisfied. "How far are we from the bridge, captain?" she asked.

"We entered the ship at an airlock fairly close to what we believe is the command tower, milady," said the shadowtrooper, the voice coming out flat and electronic through the synthesiser and filters. "At our current rate of progress, we should reach it in fifteen minutes."

Kalinda nodded, and pointed a finger down the corridor. The shock troops filed down it, ready for the next onslaught.

Alcor watched the steadily advancing warriors with increasing tension. So far, the navy troopers had failed to even seriously slow these black-armoured soldiers.

What was interesting was their leader. She was clearly human, and from what he had seen, a powerful psyker armed with some sort of xenos or archaeotech energy weapon. Based on the proportions, it seemed likely that her armoured companions were also human.

He racked his brains trying to think of possibilities. The warships, at least, demonstrated technology in advance of that of the Imperium. These black warriors seemed to at least be the equivalent of the Stormtroopers of the Imperial Guard regiments, and had demonstrated the sort of discipline he would have expected from Space Marines.

A dangerous combination. And one that, combined with the designs he had seen, one he had never heard of before.

The _Vigilance_ was finished. There was little doubt of that. But there was a chance of ending this with honour. If they could hold off the enemy for long enough for the machine spirit to regain enough strength to initiate self-destruct, they could cause some damage and end their lives in a manner befitting their duty.

So how to stop them?

They reached a four-way junction, and came under fire on all sides.

Only the whisperings of the Force saved Kalinda from taking several shots to the back from the soldiers who had snuck up behind the company.

"Take the rear and flanking enemies," she snapped. "I will take the forward ones."

She lunged through the ranks of shadowtroopers as they scattered to the walls, taking cover in the overly ornate architecture and bare conduits that lay side by side.

The leader of the forward attackers had a weapon she had not seen before – a hefty-looking rifle with a large ammo clip and barrel. As she approached, lightsabre easily catching the undisciplined, poorly aimed shots from the beam weapons, the rifle spat fire.

Premonitions of doom prompted her to leap sideways, and the shots hammered into an unfortunate flanker. He was thrown backwards, a cracking sound echoing through the sounds of battle. The light armour he wore was split open and blood spurted as whatever projectile the rifle fired exploded.

Kalinda cursed silently. She had never trained to face a weapon like this. Care would be required.

The grimace was replaced by a shark-like grin. She stretched out a hand, and as the leader brought the gun to bear again, yanked with the Force.

The man gaped as the weapon snapped out of his arms, spun, and fired of its own accord. He still looked surprised as the shot sent him flying across the corridor.

The sight of the weapon hovering in mid-air seemed to crush the other soldiers' morale, and they fled back down the corridor. She sighed, and drew her custom-built disruptor. Blasts of energy smashed into her fleeing enemies, breaking them down at the molecular level.

The sound of battle behind her died away, and she did a head-count.

The crossfire and ambush had been more effective than the pitiful previous attempts; five shadowtroopers lay motionless on the floor. No matter. The kill ratio was in their favour by at least five to one.

"Our destination must be near," she said. "Move out." She walked forward...

And the blast door slammed down, blocking her from her escort.

She looked up and saw some sort of surveillance device nestled in a corner, watching her. She saluted it briefly, and flicked her comlink. "Report, captain."

"We are analysing the barrier, milady. I am not sure, but I believe that it will be impossible to remove with our current equipment without running the risk of causing fatal damage to the corridor. What are your orders?"

Kalinda pondered this for a moment. "Remain at your current position and await my return. I shall attempt to disengage the lockdown from the bridge. If the situation becomes hopeless, you may retreat at your disgression. We are far outnumbered here."

"Yes, milady."

She realised that she was grinning ferally. She had not been in such a situation for years. Why, not since she left her homeplanet of Nezagettii...

She shook her head to clear her mind of the memory. Nezagettii and all it represented were in the past now. _"If you cannot focus in ordinary life, how can you focus in battle?"_ as Lethkas had often told her during her training.

* * *

Alcor stared in a mixture of horror and amusement as the leader continued alone. She was either overconfident or even more powerful than he had feared.

He watched with baited breath as she reached the first set of blast doors that protected the bridge. The entry combination required to open it was difficult for even a servitor to calculate.

The psyker didn't bother with codes. She made a brief hand-gesture, and the keypad exploded in a spray of sparks. The blast doors ground open audibly from within the bridge.

One more set.

"Tech-priest, tell me that the machine spirit has recovered," said the _Vigilance'_s captain.

"A few more minutes, my lord," said the Tech-priest. "The enemy weapons shook its confidence."

"You don't _have_ a few minutes!" Alcor said, his cold exterior cracking for a moment. The bridge was silent. The captain losing control was one of the first signs that a situation was hopeless.

The inner blast doors ground open, and the lithe figure stood in the doorway, a small cylinder in one hand and a gun in the other.

A swarm of Ratings armed with crude blades swarmed towards her, but they died almost instantly as the cylinder sprouted the energy blade that hacked through their weapons and bodies alike.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked, a vicious laugh escaping her throat.

"On the contrary," said Fleet-Commissar Levesin, an unusually quiet man for the Commissar corps. The power sword traditionally given to Commissars crackled into life, and he approached the psyker with blade raised.

The energy that arced across the power sword seemed to give the psyker some pause, but not much. Dark age circuitry met energy shaft with a jarring impact that sent sparks flying.

They disengaged and began circling, looking for a weakness in the other's defences.

"An interesting weapon," the psyker commented. "I'm sure the technicians would be fascinated to analyse one. Still... inferior to a lightsabre, I think." She hefted the 'lightsabre', and lunged. Again, the blades met, but this time the psyker disengaged instantly and spun to make a vicious slice. The power sword met it, but only just in time.

"You see?" she commented, backing away slightly. "Clumsy."

"You shall see who is clumsy, psyker," spat the Commissar. He went on the offensive with a vicious thrust.

She dodged with unnatural reflexes, and chopped downwards. Levesin was a fraction too slow, and the lightsabre sliced through his wrists. As he stood there in mute horror, she followed it up with a swift stab through the heart.

She relaxed, and turned towards the rest of the bridge crew. "Who else wants to challenge me?"

The only sound on the bridge was the threatening hum of the lightsabre.

"No one?" she said tauntingly. "A pity. I was just getting started. It seems that I must return to my original goal."

Alcor turned to the tech-priest, and made a querying expression. The psyker saw it, and he felt a horrible, invasive sensation for a moment.

"Oh no, we can't have you destroying the ship," she chuckled. "And you can't do that if you have no technician to repair the computer." She made a clawing motion with her fingers, and lightning sprang from them into the tech-priest. He screamed as the electricity coursed through his implants, and fell to the floor. The body spasmed for a moment, and then fell still.

Kalinda looked around thoughtfully. Extracting the plan for a self-destruct had been simple; the captain had been thinking about it quite hard. Getting more detailed information would be more difficult.

"I have no distinct quarrel with you," she said. "Our goals are simple – for now," she added, as honesty was one of her few good traits. "You have no hope here. Even if you were to somehow defeat me and eradicate the shadowtroopers behind me, you still face the full wrath of four Star Destroyers and a Star Dreadnaught. You have already failed in your task of saving the convoy – what we cannot fit in our cargo bays will be destroyed. However... if you co-operate, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

Alcor hesitated.

"And to encourage you to think properly, instead of playing for time..." She flicked on her comlink. "_Shadowblade_, ionise this ship again. They're planning a self-destruct."

Energy coursed into the already semi-crippled _Vigilance_. Alcor crumpled as the machine spirit wailed in fear and helplessness on the edge of hearing.

"What are your demands?" he asked quietly. There was little doubt that the _Vigilance_ would be destroyed if they attempted to resist. However, if they could escape to warn the Imperium of this threat...

"Information," said Kalinda. "A full copy of your database. From there... it is not up to me."

Alcor blinked. "You know that isn't physically possible. There is nothing that could hold all that information short of the machine spirit itself."

"We'll see, shall we? Open the blast doors, if you will, and order your men to stop attacking."

Alcor nodded to an officer, and there was a distant thump as the blast door retracted. A few seconds later, the black-armoured shadowtroopers swarmed into the bridge.

"We will provide the storage for the data. Show us how to link in and set the transfer running, and we will be on our way," said the Sith.

* * *

"Master, we have the data," said Kalinda into her comlink, watching the storage device being loaded onto the assault shuttle. "What now?"

"The last of the cargo has been loaded up. Did you see what information we obtained?"

"Not much. From what I saw we have learned little, though."

"A pity." The Sith Lord sighed. "Return to the _Shadowblade_. Detonate the charges when you reach a safe distance."

"Charges?" asked Alcor. "What charges?"

"We laid explosives along our path. The force of the blasts will inflict a great deal of damage to the ship, but it might remain intact."

"You said we would be spared!"

"I said we could come to an arrangement," she replied coolly. "Some of you might survive. You must hope."

She strode into the assault shuttle, and the hatch closed. The craft detached, and flew up towards the leviathan above them.

Alcor made a run for the lower decks, and almost made it.

The charges went off.

The superstructure and bridge of the _Vigilance_ were blown clean off. Put under intense pressure, the cruiser slowly split into five sections that were sent spiralling into the depths of the nebula.

A few minutes later, the scouting fleet vanished into hyperspace.

* * *

"My lord, there is a report that may interest you."

Tyrathlion turned to look at the nervous-looking archivist. "Yes?"

"A routine convoy to Xephryon III was lost en route. When a battlegroup was sent to investigate, they found the wreckage of thirteen of the twenty-one transports, the three Swords, and the cruiser _Vigilance_. The _Vigilance_ seemed to have been destroyed by internal explosions; there was little fresh battle damage on the exterior. The others seemed to have been destroyed by some form of very powerful plasma weapons and projectiles."

"Any unidentified debris or survivors?"

"_Vigilance_ was the most intact ship, but even its crew had been exposed to the depths of space for too long. There was no unrecognised debris large enough to be analysed; nothing that could not be accounted for by shards from the ships we lost."

Tyrathlion pondered this for a moment. "Thank you, archivist. You may return to your duties."

So… a convoy with a not insignificant escort had been lost. He made a mental checklist of possibilities.

Orkish pirates? No. They relied entirely on projectile weapons on their ships.

Eldar? The lack of any laser-based damage made that unlikely.

Dark Eldar? Likewise.

Human pirates? Possible, but the comment of 'very powerful' plasma weapons meant that the ships would have to be ex- Imperial Navy or Chaos raiders. They were too far from the Eye of Terror to make the latter likely, and there had been no recent losses in the fleet large enough to make the former likely. A space hulk was not impossible, but…

No luck down that alley. Time to think about the other link – no significant unidentified debris. Whatever had made the attack had been strong enough to not suffer any losses.

He opened up a link to the central library, and read through the report himself.

Ah. This could be significant.

"_Although the signature was heavily decayed and the machine spirit itself beyond repair, there is definitely a faint ionic signature on the wreckage of the transports and the _Vigilance_. The fact that there is none on the escorts adds to the mystery. To our knowledge, there is no known race in the galaxy that makes any extensive use of ionising weaponry save the Tau."_

Tau raiders?

It was time to call up the Tau Empire, and see what they could make of this. Tyrathlion had little doubt that the necessary information could be extracted from the Ethereals. One way or another.

He pressed a key on the console, and typed in a request that the officials near the Tau borders inquire into any possible raids by the xenos.

He would have liked to go himself, but he had a feeling that he would be needed in this area. And as his old master had once said, you should always heed your feelings…


	4. Thunder Roll

"How on earth can they run an entire empire on this?" snapped Aktar irritably.

Going through the data 'retrieved' from the enemy cruiser had been both time-consuming and frustrating. All the navigational data was based on something called the 'Astronomicon' and beings called 'Navigators' and 'Astropaths'. On all three of these, the database was remarkably unforthcoming.

That aside, the databanks held a reasonable list of worlds and stations that the _Vigilance_ had visited; since the ship had apparently been operational since before Dreadnaughts came into full production, the list was fairly sizeable.

Something else that had been learned, which was of limited tactical value, was what they were facing. The Imperium of Man, ruled by the God-Emperor of Mankind.

Aktar had smiled when he first saw this. It seemed too great a coincidence that a race in this galaxy had undergone parallel evolution with humans to the point that they called themselves that name and were part of an empire that was very similar to the Galactic Empire itself? Evidently fate had a sense of humour.

All interesting trinkets, as Lethkas called them, but of little use for gaining a foothold here.

Concerning the Imperium's military, like the planets, it was lists of ships and ground forces that had been encountered. It was possible to draw a few conclusions from that – space control was the occupation of the Imperial Navy, while ground domination was mainly the area of the Imperial Guard. The four other military forces mentioned – the Space Marines, Alien Hunters, Daemonhunters and Witchhunters – were apparently some form of elites, only called upon in more serious situations.

The latter two had been something of a surprise. The languages of Basic and 'Low Gothic' seemed to be identical, yet here was a very primitive reference being placed in a technologically advanced setting. They were probably honorific titles designed to impress. As for Alien Hunters... Aktar shook his head. He'd never been a hard-liner when it came to aliens, but he doubted that even the most fanatical xenophobe in the old Empire would have approved of outright extermination on the levels that would call for a unit specially designed for it. It made no logistical sense. The enslavement of Wookiees showed that even the proudest, strongest race could be brought into line. Maybe another honorific; after all, the Alien Hunters, Daemonhunters and Witchhunters all seemed to be different branches of an organisation called the Inqusition.

On other possible threats, there was even less information. At least there was some reference to the technology used in the Imperium military, but the other races mentioned were almost complete blanks. On the few occasions that it looked like some important information _had_ to be included, the issue was simply avoided. Stupidity at its height, surely.

"It makes little sense to me, either," replied Lethkas in his usual placid tones. "But the interiors of the ships that we captured are decorated to the extreme with superstitious imagery. This Imperium is a contradiction; it uses advanced technology, even more so than our own in some areas it would seem, but relies on superstitious beliefs to organise itself. Highly inefficient. Take the references to computers; they are all termed 'machine spirits', and they are treated with almost religious care. It strikes me as a dark age civilisation using technology far more advanced than its own culture. How this could have arisen, I have no idea."

"It's not entirely useless," commented Kalinda. "We may not have the sort of tactical information you would acquire from capturing one of our Star Destroyers, but at least we have some idea of our enemy. For a start, the Imperium seems to be far smaller than the Empire at its height, yet travel is far slower. It would seem we have a speed advantage there. We can make estimates of the danger posed by the ships and weapons mentioned by comparison to the _Vigilance_ itself, and through that our own vessels. Plus we now have a list of races to keep an eye out for, and possible problems with them." She tapped a key on her datapad.

"For a start, we have identified that alien race we spotted before as Orks. Assuming we can avoid getting swamped and engage them at range, they should pose no threat to us. It is the Eldar and Dark Eldar that fascinate me the most. They seem to use some sort of holographic fields to prevent damage from getting through to them. Quite apart from that, they are far in advance of the Imperium by all accounts. We should make finding and acquiring Eldar technology a high priority, I think."

"What of these 'Tau'?" asked Aktar. "They seem to pose little threat in space, but on the ground they may even outclass our troops and vehicles. Judging by the losses mentioned here, not even a full AT-AT assault may prove entirely effective."

Lethkas shrugged. "Another priority for acquiring. Why the Imperium does not try to integrate any technology beyond it into its forces is beyond me."

The intercom bleeped, and Aktar pressed a switch. "Aktar."

"Admiral, we just received a report from the _Trident_. They report that the planet is indeed unoccupied by anything apart from a few primitive aliens, and they request permission to begin setting up the outpost."

"Remind them that it needs to be easily removable, but they have a go. What's the status of _Wraith_'s wing?"

"They report that a second convoy passing through the nebula was intercepted as expected. They overwhelmed the escort easily and are now fitting hyperdrives to the captured transports. Estimated ETA two hours."

"Excellent." Aktar closed the intercom, and shook his head. "It's a pain in the neck that this 'warp drive' the Imperium uses is completely incompatible with our hyperdrives. Good thing that it's possible to fit external ones, or we would be losing a sizeable portion of our plunder with every raid."

"That reminds me, what _is_ the progress with analysing the warp drive on the captured transports?" asked Lethkas.

"Slow," said Kalinda. "The technicians are trying to prise them apart to work out what they do, but aren't having much luck. They seem to work on an entirely different principle to hyperdrives. They aren't willing to do a test run until they have some idea of how they work, and I agree."

Aktar dropped the datapad on the table and moved to the viewport. The seemingly endless stretch of the _Shadowblade_'s hull always served as a comfort to him; that such a large and powerful machine was at his disposal. Above the 'horizon' of the Executor's hull drifted several hundred ships, with the Ring as its centre.

The station was impressive. If it had been solid, it would have been far larger than the _Shadowblade_, but the structure that gave it its name made it relatively small. The superstructure was still being 'upgraded', as Kalinda put it, with weapons and shields.

It was a risk, sending such a large portion of the fleet here. To get a message from any systems that needed support, a transmission would have to be sent to the Ring on the other side, and then a messenger ship would have to go through the wormhole. Delays that could be fatal.

Yet somehow he didn't care. MI-7576 was slowly being decommissioned and the parts being moved here, setting up a base of operations around the Ring. It would be some time before they were back in operation, a dangerous amount of time given the state of the fleet. The resources they had stolen (originally and just now with the _Wraith_'s ambush) could only take them so far. It was ironic – they needed factories to create the parts needed for the factories to build what they needed. Parts were being lost from MI-7576 in the deconstruction; that was unavoidable. Something had to be done to break out of the loop…

He heard movement behind him, and forced himself to turn slowly. Even though he had been with the two Sith for several weeks now, he still felt uneasy with them around.

"There is little to be gained from going over this data repeatedly," said Lethkas. "We shall retreat to our quarters now. You will be informed if we come up with anything."

Aktar nodded, only smiling on the outside. That was the other thing. He knew that according to the terms of their agreement, the Sith were at least his equals in the hierarchy, but it still grated to have something that was beyond his control.

The door closed, and Kalinda hissed softly. "He doesn't like us."

"Be fair," replied Lethkas. "Would you like two beings with powers beyond your understanding breaking up your routine and understanding of your forces?"

"I suppose," she grumbled. "I don't like hidden feelings, though. Outward aggression I can fight. Actual respect I can accept. But inward dislike…"

"Produces memories of Nezagettii?" suggested the Sith Lord.

Kalinda's hands reflexively clenched into fists. "Do not speak of it," she snarled. The air crackled with menace as power flowed into her, responding to the burst of anger.

Lethkas said nothing, merely pressing the turbolift control. He had been training Kalinda for long enough to recognise sore issues. Anger might fuel power, but there was a time and a place for provoking it.

Kalinda relaxed. "I think I need to hurt something. I feel… cooped up here. The attack on the cruiser only exaggerated that feeling."

The turbolift opened, and the two stormtroopers inside walked out with a respectful nod. Lethkas mused how every other military he had encountered used a proper salute – but not the Stormtrooper Corps. Something to do with their salute being their battle prowess, someone had once said.

"Kalinda, Kalinda," he sighed. "Your mind can do the most amazing things, yet you act like a caged Wampa the moment you leave the action."

He pressed the control to his quarters. Inside, the only light was a dim red ambience.

"If you need to focus your aggression on something, then try me. Let's see if your skills have deteriorated."

The door closed, and Kalinda drew her lightsabre. The handle was intricate, with a design of a coiling winged serpent that wrapped around it. Where the blade was emitted lay the serpent's open jaws.

She caressed the weapon, and the red blade sprang into life like an eager predator.

Lethkas drew his own sabre. It was a much plainer affair, a simple black cylinder with a red glyph carved onto one side of it. It too ignited, almost lazily.

The room was filled with the hum of the two lightsabres. Neither combatant moved.

Kalinda was the first to snap from the trance. A vicious slice was sent Lethkas' way, but it was easily blocked. With the energy from the blow removed, he spun with his own attack.

She flipped backwards, sending the sabre slicing upwards to try and knock his blade out of the way. They connected, and locked. Sparks danced.

Both hands moved at the same time. Blasts from the Force sent them spiralling backwards.

Again, Kalinda made the first move. With an elegant twirling motion, she wove a pattern of light that would have made it impossible for any normal human to tell where the blade was.

Lethkas was not fooled. After all, he had taught her that trick. The sabres locked again, and this time Kalinda disengaged.

Lethkas pressed home the advantage with a series of diagonal swipes. Again, Kalinda retreated.

There was a pause as the two combatants analysed each other.

Kalinda dived, rolling forwards and sending her sabre thrusting forwards. Lethkas dodged backwards, and sliced downwards. Lightning-quick reflexes allowed her to dodge it, but her balance went in the process.

She leapt to her feet, and was promptly knocked down again by a Force shove. She snapped her sabre up to block any incoming blows, and received a slash to the back.

Her grip on the sabre loosened, and the blade switched off. Through the fog of pain, she heard Lethkas say something.

"What?" she hissed.

"I said, you've become used to fighting those with no Force ability. If that had been real, you would be dead." He sighed. "You know what the price of failure is." He raised a hand, and jets of lightning streaked into her crumpled form.

The feeling of her very life-force being siphoned off, on top of the sabre wound on her back, was excruciating. Only training and pride prevented her from screaming.

It ended, and she saw a hand reaching out. She grasped it, and the Sith Lord pulled her to her feet.

"Worn off some of that caged feeling?" he asked as she felt the gash.

"Enough," she replied sourly. The wound was cauterised, but still felt quite deep. She focused on it, dulling the pain and speeding the healing process. It would still be a few days before she was back in shape, but it was quicker than normal.

There was a flash in the starscape through the viewport from the wormhole, and something materialised through it.

Lethkas looked at the newcomer carefully. A Carrack-class cruiser, possibly the one stationed on the other side of the Ring..

The intercom bleeped, and the Sith Lord activated it without looking away from the ship. "Yes?"

"Master Lethkas, I'm afraid that there's bad news." Aktar paused. "MI-7576 has fallen, and with it about half the equipment we'd hoped to use for the new dockyards here. The survivors of the battle are retreating to the Ring. With the shipyards gone, we have more or less lost all remaining ties to our own galaxy."

* * *

Kyrael breathed a sigh of relief as the last Remnant warship vanished into hyperspace, leaving the shattered remains of their last base. She guided the X-wing in a lazy arc back towards the command ship.

Finally, after weeks of battles, they had broken the last vestige of the Empire. Perhaps now the galaxy could be peaceful again. Oh, the senate had made a declaration that the Galactic Civil War was over, but the military knew that it hadn't been.

"All squadrons, report in," came the voice of some faceless officer on the _Reliant_, the lead Star Defender.

"Red squadron here. Two losses."

"Green squadron. No losses."

"Gold squadron. Nine losses."

Kyrael winced at the last. Gold squadron had had the unenviable task of destroying the anti-fighter satellites defending the Golan station. Even in E-wings, it was a dangerous job.

"Blue squadron. One loss."

"Grey squadron. Three losses."

"Black squadron. No losses."

"Ruby squadron. One loss."

Now it was her turn. "Reaper squadron. No losses."

The rest of the reports turned into noise; unimportant. The Reapers, a group of mostly new recruits, had survived a highly unpleasant battle without loss.

A light flickered on on the comms panel, and she flicked a switch. Her comms switched to a private link to the _Reliant_.

"Commander Kyrael, do you copy?"

"I copy, lieutenant. What's going on?"

"I need you and the Reapers to divert. The battle was far too easy – the defence fleet was half that we expected, and many of the defence satellites have been removed. The _Reliant_ and the fleet will remain here to finish off the last remains of the Remnant forces, but I need a squadron to do a flyby of other Remnant positions. We're feeding you the locations now."

R6-Q2, her astromech, bleeped as the data arrived.

"Copy, _Reliant._ We'll be back before you know it."

She flipped the switch again to the Reaper private channel. "I'm afraid it's not over, boys and girls. We're on recon duty – _Reliant_ is getting jumpy about the missing sections of the Remnant fleet."

Collective groans echoed across the channel.

"So join formation, and we'll get on our way," she finished.

"Hey, lead, do you know what the 'missing sections' are?" Reaper Three, Torval Prioris. An incorrigible joker and Corellian, two traits that often went together.

"Not off-hand, Three."

No further conversation was possible, as the stars stretched to infinity and the X-wings jumped into hyperspace.

* * *

"Lord Inquisitor?"

Tyrathlion groaned. He had a nasty hunch that he knew why the archivist was looking at him so meekly.

"Another convoy gone?"

"Yes, my lord. When we realised it was behind schedule the navy sent a squadron of cruisers to investigate. The same situation, except that the escorting cruiser was destroyed in the same manner as the escorts this time."

"What was the escort composition this time?"

"The Dictator-class cruiser _War Glory_ and a five-ship Firestorm squadron. The convoy was twenty-strong."

"Still no wreckage from the attackers?"

"No, sir."

Tyrathlion dismissed the man with a wave of the hand, and groaned. The sooner this matter was solved, the better. The Adeptus Mechanicus on Xephryon III were getting impatient. Although the routine convoys from Haemosur were not vital, their losses were still a blow.

There was a knock on the door, and a message-servitor entered. "You have had a response from Inquisitor Velaris, great one," it said in its monotone. "Inquiries into the activities of the Tau Empire have produced violent denials of any attack on Imperial space. They are willing to prove that they have no involvement if a small group is given safe passage through Imperial space to this sector. Do you have a reply?"

Tyrathlion opened his mouth to deny the Tau's request, then paused. It wasn't as though Dark Eldar had made the request. The Tau, in spite of their heretical approach to the universe, were an honourable race. And if they could shed some light on what was going on here…

"Give Inquisitor Velaris my regards, and inform him that the presence of Tau observers would be of great help in this situation."

The servitor bowed, and retreated.

So… Tau could probably be ruled out from that list. If they were willing to prove their innocence by sending a small party deep into the territory of the greatest threat to their little empire, it seemed likely they were being truthful.

It would have been nice, he thought, if, just for once, the answer had been simple.

In the meantime… he activated a console, and queried the timing of the next convoy.

Ten days time. It would take the Tau longer than that to arrive. Time to up the ante.

He entered a rapid series of commands, reorganising the sector fleet.

He finished, and looked over the new escort. Yes, a Mars-class battlecruiser and four Dauntless light cruisers should give whoever was making these attacks pause for thought.

* * *

Swirls became lines became stars as the Reapers exited hyperspace.

The distinctive shape of the _Reliance_ came into focus, surrounded by smaller ships and the remains of MI-7576.

"_Reliance_, this is Reaper squadron reporting in," said Kyrael.

"We read you, Reapers. Welcome back. What's news?"

"Of the five systems intel suggested had Remnant presence, two had been abandoned. The other three had defences of three Victories, ten Dreadnaughts and two dozen smaller ships each, plus defence satellites.

The _Reliance_ officer was silent for a moment. "Come and land. You'll be debriefed immediately. I think we may have a problem.

* * *

"We sent out five squadrons to check out Remnant activity," commented Lieutenant Spears, looking around his audience of all the fighter squadrons and command crews in the fleet. Spears was both more or less in charge of the _Reliance_'s fighters and responsible for putting together most of the operations the Star Defender was involved in. "Each squadron took five systems. Of those twenty-five, eight had been abandoned and the remainder had a total of fifty assorted Star Destroyers, a hundred Dreadnaughts and two hundred smaller ships. Adding on the fifty ships we destroyed or put to flight here at MI-7576, that still leaves well over half the Remnant unaccounted for. Including this little monster."

The holo-generator in the centre of the table activated to show the distinctive, black-trimmed shape of the _Shadowblade_. A few muttered curses sounded around the room. The Super Star Destroyer had become infamous among the Republic forces.

"I don't think I need to introduce our old friend the _'blade_," said Spears. "Responsible for the destruction of, among many others, the _Distant Star_ and _Bladesong_, the _Reliant_'s sister ships. Considering both the inherent firepower of an Executor-class and the skill that her crew have honed through the constant battles that it has been involved in, it is almost certainly the most dangerous ship in the galaxy at the moment."

"I almost killed it, too," came a mutter from Gold Three. It had been his concussion missile that had punched a hole in the _Shadowblade_'s bridge, almost crippling it.

"As a lesser-known fact, it has been refitted with backup shield generators to prevent it from suffering the same fate as the _Executor_," continued Spears. "The other ship that is not accounted for that we're particularly worried about is the Imperator II Star Destroyer _Wraith_. Although the Imperators are less of a threat than they once were, _Wraith_ has the same stealth armour that was originally prototyped in the _Knight Hammer_. When a ship is difficult to detect and hard to shoot, it becomes a big threat."

"This is all very well, Lieutenant," interrupted a Mon Calamari captain, "but what sort of figures are we looking at?"

Spears sighed. "I estimate that there are around two hundred and forty assorted Star Destroyers including eighty Imperators, seven hundred Dreadnaughts and four thousand smaller ships, plus the _Shadowblade_, unaccounted for. They've simply vanished."

A shocked murmur floated around the room. A force that size could inflict a lot of damage.

"You have no idea where they are?"

"None," said Spears glumly. "Three possibilities. They're even now on their way to MI-7576, and we're about to get hit by the largest Imperial battlefleet seen in a decade. Second, they're hiding in the middle of nowhere, hoping that we forget about them. Third… they've found somewhere new to base themselves from." He paused. "I'm afraid that I'm inclined towards the latter. MI-7576 was partially deconstructed. I think that all their operations are moving. Unless we can find out where they are, we could be facing disaster in a few years time. If they can find resources and can start rebuilding their shipyards…" He let it hang.

"So first priority is to find that fleet?"

"And deal with the last remnants of Imperial control in this area," agreed Spears. "If we can't salvage this situation, the senate may have to re-declare the war…"


	5. Superstition

"This is ridiculous!" snarled Reaper Twelve as the last Dreadnaught leapt into hyperspace.

Kyrael sighed. Twelve was notoriously cynical, but he had been outdoing himself recently. "We're _winning_, aren't we?"

"If you can call it winning," the Trandoshan replied. "Entering a system just to catch the tail-end of a full-scale withdrawal doesn't seem like winning to me."

The rest of the Reapers murmured agreement. Each attack on the remaining Remnant systems had been planned intricately, and every time it had been a waste of time.

"All squadrons, return to hangar," came the weary voice of the _Reliant_'s flight officer. Clearly this game of cat-and-mouse was taxing everyone's patience.

"So how many systems have they abandoned now, Lead?" said Reaper Eleven.

"Ten systems just left to us," replied Kyrael. "Plus six evacuated before we arrived. There's only one left."

"The worst bit," commented the _Reliant_'s flight officer, "is that these ships are simply vanishing like the rest. And they get out too quickly for us to get a reading on their heading. Wait! We missed one!"

Kyrael flicked her eyes to the radar. Sure enough, there was the blinking red dot of an Imperial contact. "Confirmed, _Reliant_. Looks like a Carrack cruiser got left behind. It's preparing to jump to hyperspace. _Reliant_, we're close enough to intercept. Permission to pursue?"

"Granted, Reaper squadron. Good hunting, and try to stay alive!"

The X-wings spun around, shrieking towards the escaping Carrack. Turbolaser fire spat at the fighters, but the shots were easily dodged.

"Lead, I have the trajectory locked in. Transmitting."

The data scrolled up onto Kyrael's computer. "There's nothing in that direction," she said, puzzled.

The Carrack flickered, and shot into hyperspace. A few seconds later, the X-wings followed.

Kyrael mused on the cruiser's destination. It was probably a way of avoiding pursuit – go on a false run before going in the correct direction.

She wasn't disappointed. The newly installed early-warning system whined, telling her that something was exiting hyperspace nearby. She pushed a lever forwards, and the vortex twisted back into the familiar starscape.

The Carrack was altering course a few kilometers ahead, outside of effective weapons range.

"Check in, Reapers."

One by one, all of the X-wings reported ready.

Kyrael's astromech bleeped as it calculated the Carrack's vector. As the Imperial warship vanished into hyperspace, it whistled triumphantly.

"Enter formation and get ready," she said tightly. Again, the fighters vanished into the depths of hyperspace.

She pulled up a map of the surrounding sectors. Another false run, it would seem – no systems along the Carrack's path that weren't deep in New Republic space.

Her opinion changed when the X-wing was yanked back into realspace with a stomach-churning lurch. She looked up, and groaned. An Interdictor cruiser lay in the distance, surrounded by no less than five Star Destroyers.

"We have company!" she yelped. "All power to engines, we can't fight these guys. Back away, let's try to escape the interdiction field."

"Too late, lead! Two more Interdictors powering up generators on our rear vectors. Our communications are being jammed. We're trapped!"

"Republic starfighters, you have no hope of escape," came a gloating voice from one of the Imperial warships. "Surrender now or be destroyed."

Kyrael looked around for a means of escape – and spotted the Carrack.

The cruiser was drifting through the Remnant blockade into the depths of a gas cloud. Some strange premonition told her that they _had _to chase it…

"This looks bad, Reapers. Trust me on this. Enter formation and avoid engaging the Remnant. We're going to chase that Carrack."

The fighters screamed towards the mass of Imperial warships. The familiar shape of TIE Interceptors spat from the hangars of the Star Destroyers, but Kyrael ignored them.

Quad laser fire from the warships lanced at them, but the shots missed. In the distance, the Carrack vanished entirely.

This was the destination, she realized. Where all the Remnant forces had gone to. The question was, why? Why was it worth abandoning all their facilities and outposts?

"Lead, the TIEs are breaking off. It's like they're letting us go!"

Kyrael scanned her sensors, and noted that the myriad red dots were becoming fainter. "Not good," she groaned. "Whatever's in this cloud must be bad. Are we still within the interdiction field?"

Reaper Twelve made a puzzled sound. "We just reached the edge, but the computer says that we can't jump."

The Reapers entered the gas cloud, and instantly the world turned opaque blue.

"I don't like this," muttered someone. "Can't see a thing with sensors or eyes. The _'blade_ could be a metre away and we wouldn't know."

The gas cloud abruptly parted, and they saw the Ring.

And more importantly, they spotted the swarm of TIE Defenders diving towards them.

"Sithspit! Trips! Get out of here, we're no match for them!"

She spun her X-wing around, heart pounding. She had known that whatever was in the gas cloud would be dangerous, but she had never thought that three full squadrons of TIE Defenders would be deployed here. Avengers had become a relatively commons sight on the command ships, but 'Trips' were still uncommon. Whatever that station was, it was important…

The X-wing jolted, and she swore again. The Trips had tractor beams. She tried to turn to face her attacker, but the manoeuvre was never completed. Laser fire splashed on her shields before smashing into the fighter's hull. Kyrael barely had time to pull the eject lever before the starfighter exploded into burning fragments.

As she floated through space, protected by the magnetic containment field, she spotted an Assault Shuttle drifting nearby. Flashes of explosions surrounded her, and as she watched another X-wing was reduced to its component atoms.

It was suddenly over. Apart from spiralling fragments, nothing was left of Reaper squadron. The Assault Shuttle accelerated towards her, an airlock opening.

At least they were rescuing the pilots, she thought.

* * *

"Admiral, we just received a report from the Ring. A squadron of Republic fighters tracked a withdrawing Carrack and made it to the Ring. All of them were destroyed, and communications were constantly jammed, but there is a small possibility that the Ring has been compromised on that side." 

Aktar sighed. "Any prisoners?"

"One, sir. Our Defenders were perhaps a little over-zealous; no others were able to escape. She's being transferred to the mining colony on NGS-113-1 after routine interrogation."

The Admiral nodded, and dismissed the ensign.

"Probably of little consequence," commented Lethkas. "In order to track a lone Carrack cruiser with any accuracy they would have to follow too closely to send any messages. It would be virtually impossible to track the fighters, given the evasive tactics being used."

"We can only hope," said Kalinda thoughtfully. "Back to business. What of the convoy raids?"

"_Wraith_ just intercepted a third group," said Aktar. "Apparently they ran into trouble for the first time, and the _Interrogator_ took heavy damage. The escort was considerably increased."

"The logical approach," agreed Lethkas. "I think that we should abandon that run now. They will continue to increase their defences on it, draining their resources elsewhere. Meanwhile, we have a free rein to choose our next target. I suggest…" He pointed a finger at the holo-map of the charted area. "Here. The Adeptus Mechanicus base on NGS-51-2."

Aktar looked doubtful. "Hit-and-fade tactics would not work there, I think. Our biggest advantage here is that the Imperium have no idea what is hitting them. The crew captured from the transports all say that: there is no knowledge about what we are."

"On the contrary," Lethkas replied. "This is _ideal_. It may have been operating for some time, but it is still merely an 'Explorator' base. A sufficiently large force will be able to raid the planet, destroy the base and escape in a matter of hours. Given the speed of Imperium warp drive, that will be plenty of time."

"Of course, there is the small problem that we are basing its location on the records from the _Vigilance_. We've pinpointed the system being referred to, but if we get it wrong… they could get sufficient warning to send off a warning."

"We'll have to be crafty, that's all," Lethkas replied.

"And speaking of warp drive," said Kalinda, "we are ready to make the first test. From what the scientists can tell, it works on a similar principle to hyperdrive; transferring the ship into another plane of reality. However, from the records it would seem that it is much riskier. Although it is possible to make large jumps, the longer the jump, the greater the risk of the ship getting lost in the 'warp' permanently. There are references to risk of daemonic attack, as well."

"'Daemonic'?" said Aktar.

Kalinda hesitated. "We're not sure. It can be difficult to tell with the Imperium. We think that it is a superstitious reference to the potential for the equipment going out of alignment. We were just about to commence a test run using a cannibalised warp drive attached to one of our transports."

"If hyperdrive has so many advantages over warp drive, why are we attempting to develop the technology?" asked Aktar.

"It seems to have one important advantage: 'real' masses have no effect on warp drive. Interdiction fields are useless against them."

Aktar nodded. Such an ability would be of great benefit in an attack; if not as a method of long-distance travel, a way of escaping an engagement rapidly.

"Proceed."

Kalinda led them to one side of the _Shadowblade_'s bridge, and pointed at a battered P-series freighter a short distance away. "The freighter will use its hyperdrive to move a short distance away, and will then return using its warp drive. That way, if anything goes wrong the response time will be rapid. _Traveller_, you have a go."

The freighter vanished into hyperspace. Kalinda watched the starscape intently. "Even with the slowness of warp drive, it should only be a few minutes before it returns."

There was silence apart from the busy hum of activity on the lower deck of the bridge.

There was a flash of light, and a gaping hole tore itself in space. The _Traveller_ emerged from it, looking intact. The hole closed as though it had never been, and Kalinda relaxed. "It worked perfectly, it would seem. _Traveller_, report."

There was silence over the communications channel. The Sith frowned. "_Traveller_, come in please."

"Milady, we are picking up some unusual readings from the test freighter," called an ensign. "No life signs, as far as we can tell."

Kalinda snarled. "What could have happened? Prepare a shuttle. Order a unit of Stormtroopers and technicians to meet me in the hangar." She stormed off towards the turbolift.

"I will join you," said Lethkas quietly. "Perhaps we should have paid more attention to the Imperium's 'superstition'…"

* * *

"Again?" asked Tyrathlion without looking around. 

"Yes, my lord," said the archivist. "The usual pattern. However, there was something that you may be interested in. A chunk of wreckage was recovered that the Tech-priests confirmed could not have come from one of our vessels."

The Inquisitor straightened up. "Thank you, archivist." As the stooped man hastily left, he accessed the report.

"_The Tech-priests do not believe that there is sufficient material to make an entire ship, but the marks on the wreckage suggests that it was blown off by a nova cannon impact. Judging by the amount of residual radiation, the cannon was only fired once; a worrying indicator. If a Mars-class could be crippled so rapidly that its main weapon was only fired once, the attackers must have significant firepower or speed._

"_The material is some variety of ceramic-metal combination, similar to that used in Power and Terminator armour. Residual energy indicates that the material was strengthened by an energy field somehow; a technology beyond our abilities to create._

"_Beyond that, the only thing of note came from our astropaths, who claimed that there was little or no warp signature on the metal. To clarify, all things in the galaxy acquire taint from the warp – it is unavoidable. However, there is no signature on the metal. What this indicates is beyond our abilities to predict. Nothing more could be gleaned from the wreckage."_

Tyrathlion leaned back. More mysteries. And this proved that it was not the Tau. They didn't use ceramic metals in construction, even if they did use energy reinforcement on their hulls.

But no warp signature! How was such a thing possible?

It could only be hoped that this mysterious enemy would show itself soon.

* * *

There was an eerie silence in the _Traveller_. The lights were inactive. 

"This feels bad," said Lethkas quietly. "Do you smell that?"

Kalinda sniffed, and nodded. "I'd recognise that anywhere. Blood. Lots of it."

"Whatever happened here, we won't find out by hiding in the shuttle," the Sith Lord said. "Commander, take point. Weapons at the ready."

The rusting, utilitarian corridors of the _Traveller_ passed by them as they walked. They rounded a corner, and saw a bloodbath.

Twenty men had been dragged into the junction, and apparently tortured to death. Entrails hung loosely from their bodies, and blood covered every available surface. Some had had their eyes torn out, while others had their skulls smashed open to reveal the brains.

There was dead silence from the investigating team, apart from a retching sound from the techs.

"This wasn't a malfunction," said Lethkas flatly. "I was right – 'daemons' was not superstition. Some sort of hostile lifeform native to the warp. We should withdraw and destroy the transport to ensure that none escape. You must have missed something in the design of the warp drive – the Imperium couldn't function if this happened during every journey."

"Agreed. There is nothing to be gained here," said Kalinda tersely.

There was a flash of brimstone, and something materialised in front of them.

It was like a cross between a mosquito, an octopus, and a crab. Shorter than a man, it hovered maliciously in front of them.

It dived with a vicious screech. Blaster shots hammered into it, and sent the abomination crashing into the wall. Instead of bouncing off, the daemon seemed to dissolve into it with an explosion of sulphurous gas.

"Move! More may be coming!"

Daemons started materialising everywhere. There was no similarity between them; each was unique. Lethkas sliced through a human-shaped creature with a cockroach's head with the lightsabre, but strangely the blow seemed to have little effect. A second slash ripped it apart, and it dissolved into brimstone.

A technician screamed as a giant spider with a mouth like a rancor and stubby human arms landed on him. Blood sprayed as the daemon ripped him apart before the stormtroopers could kill it with a hail of blaster fire.

Kalinda sent a cascade of Force lightning into a cat-like monster with three mouths and no eyes, and it backed off with a shriek. She pressed her attack, but the thing seemed strangely resilient to the blasts.

She threw her lightsabre, and the humming red blade sliced the creature in two before returning to her. She caught sight of a bipedal daemon with a huge sucker for a mouth tear through a stormtrooper's armour and press its mouth against the exposed flesh. The trooper screamed as his organs were literally sucked out.

And then they were at the shuttle, and the nightmare was over. The craft detached from the infested transport, and blazed away towards the _Shadowblade_.

"All ships, destroy the _Traveller_ and disintegrate all debris. Leave nothing behind," said Lethkas. "_Shadowblade_, please scan this shuttle. Confirm that there are no anomalous readings on it."

"Confirmed, shuttle _Praxial_, no anomalous readings similar to those on the _Traveller_."

There was a collective sigh of relief on the shuttle. A few seconds later, green flashes of heavy turbolaser fire hammered into the _Traveller_, disintegrating the freighter.

"Your theory would appear to be correct, Master," said Kalinda dolefully. "Weeks of effort went into that prototype. All gone in a flash. No matter. It was not a vital project. Apart from the possibilities for withdrawal, it had no advantage over hyperdrives."

"I think that the project should be shelved until we have a better understanding of this universe," said Lethkas decidedly. "For the moment, we have an attack to plan."

* * *

The planet titled NGS-51-2 was named Quaola by the Adeptus Mechanicus stationed there. A fairly barren, heat-scorched rock with a rotation so slow that one side of the planet was in permanent darkness, the other in permanent light. The Explorator base was located in the twilight zone. 

The Explorators had the job of investigating the ancient catacombs on the planet thought to have been constructed by the Eldar. Although little of technological worth remained, the texts and carvings were a source of endless fascination.

Magos Explorator Zephrael looked up sharply from the document he had been reading. The proximity alarm whined again, and he went over to it.

A group of five transports had entered the system not far off. They looked in bad shape, and were limping towards Quaola.

He returned to the extract, knowing that others would handle the transports. They were far off course, but this text could prove important.

_As you will be aware, Eldar script is a complex and bizarre language to translate, with each rune having dozens of meanings. As far as we can tell, this is the meaning of the of one section located in pride of place in a deep corridor._

_There shall be a fourteenth Black Crusade, and it shall be the final one. The Despoiler shall be immortal, and the galaxy shall never be the same. For the arrival..._

_From here the text was broken off. I fear that the meaning is in little doubt, and blasphemous in nature._

"Magos! There are five transports moving towards the base. They claim that they have been badly damaged by a pirate attack, and request permission to land."

The Magos frowned, and then nodded to the Adept. After all, it sounded plausible, and there wasn't much five damaged transports could do.

The transports moved closer. Attached to their engines lay squat, functional boxes, that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the design.

And moving undetected behind them, something larger cruised forward...


	6. Wraiths made Tangible

_Just two small edits - thanks for pointing out the mistakes concerning the Manticore/Hydra and the SDT/STC. For some reason when I wrote it I remembered it as Standard Design Template. Work on the next chapter is commencing, but don't hold your breath for a while..._

* * *

The _Wraith_ moved slowly behind the transport fleet. 

Aboard, Kalinda sighed in irritation at the slow progress. The Star Destroyer was going at a fraction of its normal speed to reduce any chance of detection – and, combined with the stealth armour circuitry embedded in the hull, it seemed to be working.

Of course, using this stealthy approach did have a downside. Notably that apart from the invasion fleet being carried by the 'damaged' transports, the only firepower the Remnant force had was in the _Wraith_ itself. No doubt the Star Destroyer could handle itself, but it did add an element of risk that had not really been present in the convoy raids.

She had been placed in full command of the operation, something that had pleased her immensely at the time. As the time to strike approached, however, the very real limitations of her forces had begun to nag at her mind. If the orbital defences proved stronger than reported… if the Mechanicus ground troops were able to stall the attack…

The old adage of the Jedi came back to her. _Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. That leads to the Dark Side._ And from the Dark Side comes power, to add on the Sith saying. Perhaps her fears would only strengthen her, and through her, her troops, but it was not a pleasant feeling.

She moved to the window of the Destroyer's bridge, and looked at the vista of the planet below.

The plan was simple – once the fleet had entered position, the transports would land and disgorge their troops. TIEs from the _Wraith_ would provide air support, and the Star Destroyer's turbolasers could eliminate any defences that proved too strong for the other forces. With five divisions of fifty Stormtroopers, ten AT-ATs, twenty AT-STs and fifteen Chariot LAVs, an outpost shouldn't be a problem.

And if it did, well, that was why the _Wraith_ was there…

"We're entering orbit, milady. The transports are beginning their descent. Wait! Power surges from the surface!"

Kalinda's grip on the panelling tightened as a spear of light slammed into one of the transports. With a slow inevitability, the craft disintegrated, taking a fifth of the force with it.

"The game's up," she snarled. "Launch all TIEs and get a lock on that laser platform – I want it reduced to smoking ash!"

* * *

Zephrael watched in horror as green plasma bolts streaked into the lance batteries from a patch of apparently empty space. As the energy coursed into the bolts' source, the base's sensors picked out the attacker.He had grown suspicious upon noting the huge number of lifesigns aboard the freighters, and decided "better safe than sorry". A few damaged transports would have proved no trouble… 

It was a small, escort-sized triangle of black metal, according to the data feeding directly into his implants. Sensors still had difficulty keeping a lock on it – some form of stealth technology.

"Form up the Skitarii," he barked. "They must want this place intact – the transports must contain an invasion force. We shall show those enemies of the Imperium what it means to attack the Adeptus Mechanicus!"

He received a report: the orbital lances had been obliterated. A second one quickly followed it. The System Monitors were making their attack.

The Magos moved to a window and looked out. In the far distance, the transports were just visible touching down on a massive plain of bare rock. Optical implants enhanced the image, and he saw lines of white-armoured warriors filing out from ships. Close behind them were what looked like miniature titans.

He refocused the image on the vehicles. Quadrupedal, with long legs and a lumbering gait suggesting a great load. Small Sentinel-like walkers prowled around the edge of the formation. Above them, squat cuboid craft hovered.

Clearly an advanced race. There was none of the randomness associated with Orks or other relatively primitive races. The formations were ordered to perfection; it reminded him of images of Cadian divisions.

He did a quick check of the overall force. Assuming equivalency to an Imperial Guard force, the battle would be a close one. The Skitarii were outnumbered, but had the advantage of defensive positions and turret emplacements mounted on the base.

"Astropath, send a distress signal," he said tersely. "Keep transmitting what you see."

The Psyker nodded, strain evident on his face.

A new report filtered into his consciousness. The Monitors were in range of the warship, and were opening fire.

The images of the battle picked up by the sensors fed into his optical implants at his order. The two Monitors were spitting plasma and laser fire at the triangle, which had yet to respond.

The energy washed over some form of shielding (not Void shields, sensors noted), scorching the hull but doing little else. The vessel rotated to place its assailants in its forward arcs, and fired its plasma weapons.

Flickering red reports overlaid themselves over the image, indicating that the first Monitor's shields were overloading from the strain. Clearly the firepower being displayed was far greater than that of any normal ship.

The Void shields failed, and plasma smashed into the hull. Components and weapons melted, and the ship's return fire paused for a moment as the bridge was vaporised. Despite the mounting damage, the Monitor fought on. Zephrael silently praised the vessel's creators for producing such a sturdy weapon.

Another report flickered up: the newcomer's shields appeared to have failed. Seconds later Monitor One's hull shattered under the stress, leaving Two to fight the triangle alone.

Lasers carved into the triangle's hull, and several weapons fell silent. The majority did not. Soon afterward, the shields were reported to have regenerated.

With a final defiant blast of its weapons, Monitor Two went the way of its companion. The triangle returned to its vigil over the planet, and Zephrael switched off the link.

The enemy ground troops had not moved. Perhaps they had been waiting for their spacial allies to come forth victorious before advancing.

He walked up to the base's central control station with a slowly growing feeling of despair. Two System Monitors should have been able to deal with a ship that size from _any_ race in a one-on-one fight. If these ground troops proved as effective as the ships…

The advance began. He analysed the Skitarii's position, and concluded that it was optimal.

"Basilisk platforms on standby," he ordered. "Target the main walkers."

There were eight of them, he noted. A dangerous proposition, if they had anything near the firepower their size suggested.

Direct feeds from the overall battle entered his mind, and he watched the counter for the Basilisks' range to target decrease.

In range.

"Fire."

Shells spat from the artillery platforms, landing among the enemy with great blasts of flame. One of the walkers took a direct hit, and to his joy it slowly crumpled from the sheer force. Dozens of enemy troops had been engulfed in the fire, and hope replaced despair.

An eerie roar filled the air, and plasma fire fell from the sky. As the Hydra batteries rotated to locate their enemy, Zephrael spotted them – small spherical craft with angular wings and (judging by the blasts they were emitting) two plasma weapons on each wing.

Autocannon fire from the Hydras joined the thump of the Basilisks and the explosions from the aircraft's plasma cannons. One of the fighters was locked onto, and was shredded by the heavy shells slamming into it.

As one, the Basilisk platforms blew up from a storm of plasma from the advancing heavy walkers. Zephrael blinked, and replayed the image. Two massive blasts from each of the walkers' 'heads'. To get that sort of accuracy, taking out the artillery like that…

The Skitarii remained motionless. Combat implants and the brutal training that goes into creating a Skitarii warrior ensured that they would stand their ground to the bitter end.

The enemy fighters had ceased their strafing manoeuvres, concentrating on avoiding the fire of the Hydra batteries. The Magos considered their antics, puzzled. Surely they would be better off retreating from the battlefield if they were so hindered by the anti-aircraft fire that they could no longer attack.

The second wave of aircraft dived from the skies. Zephrael just had time to see their shape (twin cylinders with long angular wings to the sides) when streaks of red-gold flame jetted from the left cylinder of each.

The Hydras detonated spectacularly as the projectiles slammed into them. Their job done, the bombers screamed back into space while the fighters turned, and spat plasma fire at the ranks of Skitarii.

Blasts from the enemy vehicles lit the dark plain. Most of the shots were caught by the tough armour of the compound, but many Skitarii and gun batteries were incinerated. Finally in range, the lascannon turrets locked onto the main walkers.

To the Magos' surprise, the beams did not produce the gouts of flame of a stricken vehicle that he was used to, but merely scorched the armour of the seven remaining monsters. The attack skimmers dived at the offending turrets, plasma fire spitting and carving through the ceramic casing of the weapons. Missiles and plasma fire from the Skitarii streaked into the skimmers, and two exploded before they peeled away.

The white armoured troops entered range, and a hundred lasguns spat. Many fell, though the shiny plating simply absorbed some of the shots. Small red plasma bolts came in response.

The power of these weapons was clearly less than that of even a Tau plasma weapon, Zephrael noted. Although they killed most that they hit, the carapace and flak armour held out against some of the shots. Perhaps equivalent to an Imperial hellgun.

There was a blinding flash, and a large section of the walls crumbled away from a massive blast from the main walkers. Smaller bolts from guns on the sides of the heads ripped into the Skitarii, causing far more casualties than their smaller cousins; instead of shooting at warriors behind heavy ceramic defences, the height advantage meant that it was an open killing ground.

Autocannons, plasma guns, missiles and mortars fired at the heavy walkers, but all glanced off harmlessly. Several soldiers adjusted their aim downwards to the long legs, and one of the mighty vehicles crashed to the ground, a key joint melted through with a lucky plasma shot.

The fighters returned for another pass, and Skitarii died, even as they fired at their aerial assailants.

Zephrael sighed. The base was lost. The Skitarii would hold the enemy off for some time, but eventually they would be wiped out.

There was a final groan behind him, and he turned to see the Astropath sink to the floor and fall still, the effort of transmitting the battle finally overcoming the Psyker.

New report: unidentified craft landing on central base. The Magos altered the image from the grinding battle at the front to the newcomer.

It was a small triple-winged shuttle, judging by the shape. The lower two wings folded up to create a trident effect, and short legs extended.

"Activate combat servitors to intercept new unidentified contact," he said crisply. The hideous half-machines walked out of the door, power blades activating.

Black-armoured troopers filed out from the shuttle, long-barrelled rifles at the ready. As they spotted the servitors, blue bolts spat. Five fell, leaving plenty more.

New report: enemy troops have made it to upper defences. Activating combat servitors.

Someone else was descending the ramp. It appeared to be a human woman clutching a small pistol and a metal cylinder.

He flicked to the main battle. The combat servitors were carving through every white-armoured warrior they met, but there were enough of the enemy troops to mean that for every white soldier killed, two servitors were shot down. The last Skitarii were attacking, but they too were steadily being shot down. Combat skimmers roamed the air, killing anything that moved. The battle was as good as lost.

He returned to the newcomers. The black troopers were steadily retreating, but the woman advanced. Beams of energy spat from the pistol, disintegrating whatever they hit. As the servitors closed in, a long red blade of energy erupted from the cylinder, and the woman became a whirling frenzy of destruction.

The lumbering half-machines couldn't touch her, but their numbers slowly forced her back.

Away from the shuttle. It was a long shot, but if these attackers were connected to those mysterious sightings of warp-capable fighters…

"All surviving tech-priests, retreat to central command. Attempt to board the enemy shuttle there."

He left. There was only one chance.

* * *

Kalinda spun, fired her disruptor at another of the bizarre cyborgs with and cut through another with her lightsabre. They were slow, clumsy, and would be poor opponents if it weren't for their numbers and the lethality of their weapons. 

She backed up another step. There were so many! Even with her killing at a rate of two every five seconds, and her Shadowtrooper escort shooting down the monsters every time they had a clear line of sight, they were still be forced back.

She snapped out a hand, and sent a jet of lightning into another group. They fell, jerking as their life energy was siphoned off.

Another of the cyborgs slashed at her, and she caught the attack on the lightsabre before killing the offender with her disruptor. Spinning to find a new opponent, she spotted several newcomers exiting the central building.

They were also cyborgs, but they had none of the effect of crudely hacked flesh that these ones did. Five of them, long snake-like tentacles extending from the backs of some.

They were running for the shuttle.

These combat 'borgs were a distraction! With a shove of the Force, she sent several of the monstrosities flying out of her path before charging the newcomers.

She was too slow. They entered the shuttle, and another combat 'borg moved into her path.

* * *

If his heart had had enough organic components to go out of control in such a way, Zephrael was sure that it would have been thumping away like an autocannon. The warrior-woman was attempting to get past the servitors to board the shuttle, and if they failed to activate its systems in time, the fight would be a short one. He had seen her in action sufficiently to know that even a Space Marine would have trouble fighting her. 

To his surprise, the controls seemed to be in Gothic. The lettering was strange, and there seemed to be a few other differences, but it was understandable. He pressed the control to raise the ramp, hoping that it was not a tragic coincidence that they looked like Gothic.

To his joy, the craft obeyed his command. He moved to the cockpit, where the other tech-priests were powering up the craft's systems.

In his implants' eye, he spotted the woman cleave the last servitor in her path in half. Given her weapons' abilities, it was unlikely that the shuttle's hull would withstand such an assault.

The shuttle, clumsily, lifted off, jerked, and then took off towards the stars. The Magos relaxed slightly, but he knew that it was not over. The cruiser in orbit and the fighters still had to be dealt with.

Two small circular screens lit up, and red dots painted themselves over it.

"Plot a course for Xephryon III. Since we have no navigator, small jumps will be necessary."

"Magos, this ship has no warp drive," said the Tech-priest piloting the shuttle plaintively.

Zephrael looked carefully at the controls. There was indeed no control indicating warp capability. There was one thing he did not recognise, however. 'Hyperdrive activation levers'.

Hyperdrive. His lingua-implants analysed the word, and concluded that it was a possible alternate term for warp drive.

He moved to the second problem, even as the ship banked sharply to avoid a barrage of plasma fire.

The pilot flicked through the sensor contacts, and selected the pursuing fighters. They highlighted themselves on the circular screens, and a small screen identifying them as 'Gamma Squadron – TIE Interceptors' lit up.

He returned to the conundrum of navigation. It was possible that there had been on need to have a navigator on board for this journey, but there was no position for the Psyker to go in the cockpit! Perhaps… a set of controls labelled 'Navmap' attracted his attention.

The Magos sat down, and started using the controls. Most of it was nonsense to him, but to his amazement, one system was labelled 'Xephryon'.

Praise the Emperor for small mercies, he thought. The shuttle jerked as the Interceptors got a lock on, and then the Magos activated the hyperdrive.

The stars lengthened, spun, and the ship was abruptly travelling in what appeared to be a tunnel. A countdown started ticking down above the hyperdrive controls, and Zephrael grasped the levers. It was a fair assumption that the 'hyperdrive' was supposed to be deactivated when the countdown reached zero.

It did so, and he pushed the levers forward. The process of activating the engines reversed, and Zephrael stared at the vista.

It was Xephryon III, no doubt about it. In the distance, three Tau ships were slowly moving into docking position, flanked by fifteen Imperial warships.

They had just made a journey that took hours in a little under thirty seconds.

A panel labelled 'communications' lit up, and the Magos pressed the indicated switch.

"Unidentified ship, you have entered the space of the Machine Cult. You are to surrender immediately and submit to our forces."

Zephrael shook himself from his revery. "Xephryon III, this is Explorator Magos Zephrael, late of the Quaola Explorator base. I bring news of a new enemy of the Imperium, and a captured vessel with abilities beyond our wildest dreams." He paused. "An STC is not out of the question."

* * *

"I am sorry, milady, but Lambdas are _designed_ to survive those sort of conditions. The Interceptors did their best, but the ship vanished towards Xephyron." 

Kalinda sent the unfortunate lieutenant flying across the room with a shriek of anger. Their goal had been achieved, although with greater casualties than anticipated, but it was all for nothing. Some had escaped, to bring news of the Remnant to the Imperium, and worse, one of their ships had been captured.

Lethkas would not be pleased.

"A thousand apologies, milady," the man babbled.

"Get out of my sight! NOW!"

He obeyed at the run.

She tried to look on the bright side. The navigation systems would be incomprehensible to the Imperium, and the routine self-memory wipe would erase most useful information before they could get their claws on it. The Ring was safe. Plus they would have been discovered eventually.

But the imagined feeling of the pain of her upcoming punishment swept aside most optimism.


	7. Know Thy Enemy

_The long awaited chapter arrives! A few alterations have been made to the previous chapter as suggested, so yes, it was meant to be 'STC'._

_We are now entering a sort of 'part two' – from now on, we'll only get fleeting glimpses of the Empire. Everything will take place from the Imperium's perspective. Hopefully my reading of Eisenhorn will improve said perspective somewhat…_

* * *

Tyrathlion looked over the ship in mild astonishment. Even with the records of ships this small entering the warp, even with the sightings of the strange fighters recently, it still amazed him that this craft existed. 

"And you are certain that there was no time dilation? No possibly way that you could have lost consciousness?" he asked.

Zephrael shook his head. "Inquisitor, surely I need not remind you that our implants would have noticed any such loss of time. The archivists and savants all over Xephryon have been puzzling over the mystery, and the Tech-Priests have been trying to analyse the ship without result. As far as I know," he added. "I and my subordinates have only just been cleared of Techno-heresy for failing to cleanse the craft's machine-spirit prior to using it. They accepted my response that my duty to the Imperium came first, and that duty (at the time) required my survival."

"A defence that might not have held up were it not for some strange facts about this ship," said a new voice.

Magos and Inquisitor turned to see the imposing figure of Techno-Magos Lethtara, the ruler of Xephryon III. "As you say, Explorator Magos, we have had little success in deciphering the ship's technology. At first we were cautious in our inquiries, but the Machine Spirit of the ship is remarkably cooperative." He shook his head with a faint whine of augmetics. "We have extracted a lot of information about the ship and its creators in general, but details evade us. Asking about the secrets of its technology simply produces a prompt for an 'access code'."

"But you have learned something?" asked Tyrathlion eagerly.

Lethtara chuckled with a faint rasping sound. "Your thirst for knowledge matches our own, Inquisitor Tyrathlion. The savants have just finished assembling what we have learned into a briefing for both you and the other major forces in this sector, notably Brother-Marshal Dastryan of the Black Templars, Admiral Priaris of Battlefleet Scatar, Abbess Lakonda of the Adeptus Sororitas, and General Salar of the 43rd Mordian Iron Guard. I came here to inform you that we await your presence to complete the company." He vanished into the long corridors of the Xenotech Analysis facility.

"Quite a grouping," Zephrael noted. "I was not aware that there was a Black Templar crusade in the area. They will be needed, I think."

* * *

The Inner Sanctum chosen by the Techno-Magos was starkly blank, with little in the way of decoration save the Imperial Aquila on one side of the room and an inscription of the Sixteen Universal Laws on the other. At the centre, a metal table with matching chairs stood. 

Typical of the Mechanicus, Tyrathlion thought in passing. Comfort was a distraction of the flesh, so why bother with it?

The Inquisitor's eye roved across the room, picking out the various figures mentioned by Lethtara previously. All were unmistakeable: the massive bulk of Marshal Dastryan, the gaudy uniform of General Salar, the dour figure of Abbess Lakonda… and in a corner, four cloaked figures led by one with an Inquisitorial Rosette.

All different, yet all serving the Imperium in their own way.

He pushed his thoughts aside as the Techno-Magos began to speak.

"My thanks for responding to my call so promptly," he began in his inorganic rasping tones. "No doubt you have all heard rumours concerning the mysterious force operating in this sector."

"The very reason why my forces came here," butted in Dastryan impatiently.

Lethtara gave the Space Marine a rather cool look, and then continued. "One of our Explorator bases was attacked on a minor planet named Quaola. A few of our Tech-Priests, notably Magos Zephrael, escaped the destruction in an enemy ship." He nodded to Zephrael before gesturing at a savant hovering in a recess.

"The ship is small," took over the savant in nervous tones. "The size of an Imperial Guard dropship, perhaps. Despite its small size, it is not only capable of interstellar travel, it can do so at a speed that we would never have dreamed possible."

A hologram flickered into life on the table showing the craft. Mutterings rose from the various people around the table.

"Indeed, we do not believe that it uses warp travel at all. We have found no sign of gellar fields in its construction, and the ship's Machine Spirit refers to the means of travel as a 'hyperdrive'. At first we thought that it was a synonym, but none of the components of the 'hyperdrive' were recognisable. In addition, the ship has an armament that puts many Imperial fighters to shame; eight weapons referred to as 'laser cannons'. From what we have gleaned from their design, we think that the weapons are closer to plasma than las-weapons, but are distinct from both. During some live trials of the ship –"

"_Live_ trials?" interrupted the other Inquisitor. He wasn't familiar to Tyrathlion.

Lethtara nodded. "The Machine Spirit of the ship is remarkably passive, subject to any instructions given. It seems to have little or no will of its own. I considered piloting the vessel through a series of trials to learn of its capabilities to be an acceptable risk."

"Taking such action without the express permission of the Inquisition is tantamount to heresy, Techno-Magos," the Inquisitor replied silkily.

If his reaction to Dastryan's interruption had been chilly, Lethtara's glare now was positively glacial. "Do not think to lecture me, Inquisitor Kastor," he grated with a gesture at the Sixteen Laws inscribed on the wall. "'The alien mechanism is a perversion of the true path.' We knew the risks. And we also know something of what our enemy is capable of. Our first duty is to the Imperium." He nodded to the savant.

"As I was saying… um… the shots of these 'laser cannons' have the appearance of plasma bolts, and each shot is a little more powerful than a lascannon blast. In fact, it is a lot more powerful, but the shots are less focused; they have a relatively large impact radius." The savant licked his lips, and flicked to the next screen on his datapad. "The ship itself is a little more agile and a little faster than a comparable transport, and also has some sort of energy shielding that works on a different principle to our own void shields. A more effective principle; instead of absorbing the shot entirely, blasts are merely weakened to the point where they merely char the armour slightly. In conclusion, this 'Lambda-class shuttle' is far superior in every way to any comparable ship of ours."

"'Lambda-class shuttle?" asked Tyrathlion.

"The name that we extracted from the Machine Spirit," the savant replied. "Which brings me onto information about our foe's other tools." The hologram changed to show a dark, triangular shape. "We know little of the ship that led the attack on Quaola. What we do know is very bad. Despite being the size of one of our Firestorm frigates, it has firepower comparable to a Mars battlecruiser. A little more fragile, we think, due to the smaller hull, but otherwise… in addition, it has launch bays of not inconsiderable size, and some sort of technology that meant that it was not detected until it opened fire."

Dastryan leaned towards the hologram. "A powerful opponent?"

"The combined firepower of our two System Monitors managed to temporarily overwhelm the triangle's shields," spoke up Zephrael. "They were restored rapidly, however, and one of the Monitors was destroyed before sufficient firepower could be brought to bear to repeat the result."

There was shocked silence for a moment.

"A ship the size of a frigate overwhelmed two System Monitors with little real damage?" asked Inquisitor Kastor. A sage with the look of an Inquisitorial servant was scribbling frantically.

"That is correct," said Zephrael.

"We believe that the ship is an Imperator-class 'Star Destroyer'," Lethtara's savant noted. "Details of ships is scarce in the shuttle's databanks, but records indicate that it was an Imperator that was leading the attack. Since we didn't see any other warships in the group… which brings us onto the ground forces."

The hologram changed again to show what at first glance seemed to be a Kasrkin in white armour holding a short-barrelled carbine.

"The basic warriors of the enemy. From what we have seen of them, they are equivalent to their look-alikes in the Imperial Guard. Magos Zephrael also spotted some warriors in black armour with longer weapons; perhaps some sort of elites. They were in the company of this individual."

The hologram altered to show the figure of the enemy leader, face snarling, energy blade raised to slash.

"We believe that this was the leader of the attack. Information about her is thin on the ground, but there are references to a 'Sith Warrior' being aboard the shuttle."

The hologram retracted to show the scene on the landing pad and started playing, showing the battle between servitor and Sith. Salar cursed as the servitors were slashed apart with every blow.

"Last but not least, their vehicles."

The hologram flicked between the massive quadrupeds, the fast bipeds, the skimmers and the aerospace fighters and bombers, the savant giving a running commentary throughout.

Dastryan was getting impatient again, Tyrathlion noted. A common fault among Black Templars, if the reports were anything to go by.

"Now about our opponent in general. They call themselves the Galactic Imperial Remnant – from what we have picked out from little comments and scraps of information, they are not local to this galaxy. How they got here, we do not know, but the galaxy that they left was considerably larger than our own; perhaps twice the size. And yet at its height, the Galactic Empire ruled over two thirds of it without being stretched. Their rise and fall has been relatively rapid; it was formed from a much older body named the Old Republic around forty years ago. It had its heyday for some twenty-five years before opposition to its rule managed to make several crippling defeats over the Empire. Ever since, the Empire has been in decline while its replacement, the New Republic has been expanding. It is our conclusion that this invasion of our galaxy is a last throw of the dice for a dying group."

"Given their military advantage over us in many areas, it may well gain in strength sufficiently to pose a serious threat to the Imperium," said Admiral Priaris darkly.

Glares were thrown at him from all around the table, particularly from Dastryan.

"He speaks truth," Lethtara interjected testily. "It is hardly heresy to admit the possibility that an enemy will be a problem. If it were, almost all of the Imperium would be guilty of it. The question is not _if_ something should be done about this Remnant, but _what_ and _when_."

"I do not see that we have much that is of use," replied Dastryan with a sneer. "There is little doubt that this heretical race of creatures that mock true human form should be annihilated, but you have told us nothing of value! You give descriptions, but nothing more! How am I to deploy my Crusade to face them if I am fighting shadows and wraiths?"

"And you always have such information at your disposal, Brother-Marshal? That is information almost never available when facing the Eldar, to my knowledge," asked Tyrathlion quietly. "We should be grateful that we know even this little."

"Against Eldar I know how they think and how they fight, Inquisitor," the Black Templar retorted. "Here I do not even know that. The Black Templars will fight, and we shall win, but I dislike fighting a foe I do not know."

"My lords…" the savant wheedled. "There is one more thing – no, two more. I beg your forgiveness for the first, Techno-Magos, but I learned it literally as I was arriving, and there was no opportunity to inform you before. The shuttle's Machine Spirit seems to have… lost its memory. We will have no further opportunity to interrogate it, and I fear that we may not even be able to fly it any more."

Cries of disbelief came from around the table. "Explain," was Lethtara's only response.

"It fits in with the Remnant's philosophy," the savant said, quivering. He clearly had little experience of speaking before such a lofty gathering, thought Tyrathlion. "They have no reverence for the Machine Spirit as we do, in a heresy much reminiscent of the Tau. It is possible that there are commands embedded within the Machine Spirit's mind that order it to erase its memories on a regular basis to prevent too much information from being extracted in the event of capture."

Again the room filled with mutterings.

"The second matter is that we extracted a list of star systems and their purposes within the Remnant. It is incomplete, as we were proceeding with it when the memory erasure took place, but we have identified two different Remnant-controlled areas. The first is referred to simply as 'The Ring', and it seems to be their centre of operations. The other is referred to as NGS-113; "New Galaxy System 113". They appear to have a mining colony operating there on the first planet. There is little information about the system, but we have put together enough to isolate which one it is. A small border system, with a planet named Edge inhabited by a primitive industrial race of humans. It was not considered worth reintegrating into the Imperium due to its proximity to two Ork-held systems. Reports suggest that Rogue Traders have brought metals from it." The savant paused. "A _mining_ colony…"

"Which the Remnant took control of," said Salar slowly.

"If nothing else, it provides a tangible target to strike at," commented Tyrathlion. "Admiral Priaris, how long would it take to reach this world?"

"Three weeks," the Admiral replied crisply. "A task force can be sent off directly. I think that some ground forces to take the planet would be required, however. We're starved of information about the Remnant, and the more we can gather, the better."

"Most of my Crusade is scattered around the sector, but I can offer four squads plus myself," said Dastryan promptly.

"Likewise, but I have fifteen hundred men on world," added General Salar.

"Time is of the essence, I think. We cannot wait for further troops to arrive, and I do not think that removing warriors from Xephryon is wise," said Tyrathlion. "We should contact Warmaster Yloris on Luther McIntyre for his advice on the matter, but the sooner we can strike back at the Remnant, the better."

"I think you will receive no argument, brother," Kastor said. "That leaves the question of defences. Abbess, what say you concerning the safety of Ophelia VII?"

Lakonda spoke for the first time. "Additional warships should be relocated to defend the planet, but I feel confident that our ground troops are a match for Remnant ones."

"Likewise," said Lethtara. "The Skitarii made the Remnant pay a heavy price for Quaola. With Praetorians and Titans at our disposal here, they will never take Xephryon intact. Our orbital defences would appreciate reinforcements, however."

"Half of Battlefleet Scatar will be relocated to the defences of these two worlds, then," said Priaris. "The remainder will be assigned to the task of hunting down the Remnant. Do we have any clues as to the system that the 'Ring' is located in?"

The savant jumped slightly. "I am afraid, my lord, that the Ring is not in a system. From what we can tell of the data about the Ring, it is ten light-years from any star. It is literally in the middle of nowhere."

"So looking for it…" said Kastor with a dawning horror.

"…is the proverbial needle in the haystack, yes my lord. If the haystack covered the surface of Holy Terra."

* * *

Tyrathlion watched the swarm of assorted frigates, cruisers and battleships move into formation and move off towards the depths of space from the Ramiles Star Fort that dominated Xephryon's defence grid. He had considered accompanying the expedition, but gut instinct had told him to remain here. Twenty weeks was a long time to be away from the heart of the forming war, considering the speed of the Remnant hyperdrive. 

"Inquisitor. So you're the man who has been following this matter from the start."

Tyrathlion turned to see Kastor, who was standing just behind him. "That's right," he replied guardedly. "Inquisitor Midas Tyrathlion, Ordo Malleus. And you?"

Kastor smiled frostily. "Inquisitor Pidea Kastor, Ordo Xenos. I know of you by reputation. Hard not to. Not many have managed to make such catastrophic blunders as the Tandreth incident."

Tyrathlion's temper flared, but he kept it under control. "I was not solely responsible for what happened there."

"But you were the Inquisitor present," Kastor said pointedly. "From all the evidence we have seen, this is a Xenos matter. Not a Malleus one. Until other, more senior members of our orders arrive, I believe that I should take command. After all, we don't want another Tandreth. With this Remnant, it could be disastrous."

Tyrathlion lost patience. "There was no way of knowing that the taint had not been obliterated!" he snarled. "The cult had been eradicated, and their daemonic minions banished."

"But you failed to take into account the effect of the centre of their blasphemous worship," Kastor retorted. "Thus allowing the cult to reform using the tainted citizenry. Your foolish belief that the matter was over allowed the taint to spread like wildfire, and the entire planet was lost. Exterminatus was needed to stop it from growing further. An entire planet," he repeated, "lost because of your poor judgement."

"That is in the past, _Inquisitor_. Tandreth was over fifty years ago. I had barely been promoted from Interrogator. I have learned from my mistakes."

The other shrugged carelessly. "So you say. I shall be watching you closely. See that you make no more such errors, for the cost to the Imperium will be grave indeed." Kastor left the observation room without waiting for a reply.

Tyrathlion cursed. Tandreth had haunted him for every one of those fifty years, and no doubt would for the rest of his life. People like Kastor would see to that.


	8. Death from the Stars

Imagine space…

Imagine the blackness. The cold. The absolute emptiness. Nothing can survive without the protection of a starship here, and it has been known to drive the creatures that have wandered far from home mad.

Nothing can survive.

But whatever divinity created the void to keep us apart never bargained for this.

Nearly five hundred of the beings cruised through the void. Not dead. Not insane. Just… sleeping. Reaching out. Tasting for their prey… for the scent of life…

But they do not need it now. Just for later. They already know their destination.

The leaders felt something new approach, sensed the power and metal and life. Irrelevant. Not enough to be worth consuming.

Eyes the size of a man focused on the tiny shapes, watching the angular prey-holders that watched them.

Irrelevant. They posed no threat.

The prey-holders vanished, and the Hive Mind considered what it had learned for a moment; these were not like other prey-holders that it had encountered.

Irrelevant. Nothing could stop the Hive.

The watchers already forgotten, Splinter Fleet Hydra returned its attention to the stars, and the life that it craved.

* * *

Releasing the news of the Remnant had been a mistake, thought Tyrathlion irritably. 

Oh, warning the Imperium of a new threat had been necessary. But some damned fool had let slip of the Remnant's capabilities, and the entire sector had ended up panicking. Forcing the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisitors, among others, to allocate precious time to reassuring the masses that they were safe. Time that could be much better spent organising forces, making battle plans…

The Valkyrie shrieked through the atmosphere towards the surface of the agri-world of Bisk. A relatively minor world. Certainly not one that a senior Inquisitor should be assigned to during such times.

Mind you, Bisk had been in a state of upheaval even before the Remnant's arrival. Corruption had been rife, and many suspected the ruling family of being tainted. They had not been overly missed when the entire household had been killed under mysterious circumstances, but the overnight eradication of the rulers of a planet was always sure to cause chaos. Especially when the other major families were scrabbling for power in the abrupt vacuum.

The Inquisitor pondered what he might say. The usual blather about the strength of the Imperium, the Emperor protects, and so on, but something extra was called for here.

Dammit, this was a job for the Ecclesiarchy, not the Inquisition! But the Inquisition was an agency of purity and darkness, an all-knowing avenger and protector of mankind. A little publicity from it concerning the safety of Bisk would do no end of good.

The Navy transport broke through the cloud cover to see the city below. No hive city can be truly described as beautiful, but the creators of Bisk Primus had certainly done their best; the uppermost structures gleamed in the sunlight, and the usual grime was nowhere to be seen. It was there, of course; you didn't spend seventy-odd years in and around the Holy Inquisition without getting to know something of the way that the human mind works.

Vultures in parade formation buzzed up to meet the Valkyrie. Unnecessarily gaudy, but Bisk got few official visitors. It was all for the sake of calming the people, he reminded himself.

As the Valkyrie came in to land, Tyrathlion spotted representatives from the four remaining high families standing a little way off from the backwash of the landing aerospace transport. The Vultures peeled away and released a volley of fireworks before moving in to land themselves a little way off.

The ramp lowered, and Tyrathlion strode down it in the accepted Inquisitorial fashion; impressive entrances weren't officially taught, but many Interrogators secretly practiced them.

"Lord Tyrathlion, welcome to Bisk Primus," said a portly man at the head of the little group. Tyrathlion noted the unpleasant looks being sent the way of the man by his companions, but ignored them. "I am Governor Andre Lakon, head of the Lakon family as elected rulers of this planet in the wake of the sad deaths of the Biskian family."

That would explain the dirty looks. "Thank you, Governor. Who are your companions?"

"Lord Asphal Wirida, Lady Camilla Priaris and Lord Sebastian Placy," Lakon said with a gesture at each, his body language clearly indicating _don't bother with them, I'm the important one here!_ Tyrathlion inspected each, and found the typical nobility of the Imperium; overweight, sour-faced and a tad foppish.

"You must forgive me," said Tyrathlion after a short pause, "but I live in busy times. You have organised for me to speak to the people promptly, I hope?"

"Indeed, lord Inquisitor, but I had hoped that you might dine with us tonight…" Lakon's wheedling voice tailed off, perhaps remembering that he was not dealing with an ordinary VIP.

"We shall see," the Inquisitor replied carelessly, mentally cursing horribly at the prospect.

"This way, lord," Priaris said, taking the initiative upon spotting Lakon's momentary confusion.

"Thank you. You are related to Admiral Priaris?" said Tyrathlion, clawing for some topic of conversation.

She preened. "He's my son."

They came to a massive tower that stood next to the landing pad, and entered it. A lift opened, and a few moments later the group was rising.

The doors opened again to reveal a large balcony. Far below, the people of Bisk Primus were assembled, awaiting the words of their lords and masters.

Tyrathlion hesitated for a moment, and then walked up to the edge. Words spilled out of him. He probably would not remember them later. The art of persuasive speaking had become second nature, as it did to many Inquisitors.

His eyes roamed over the crowd, flickering to the landing pads surrounding the tower.

There was something out of place.

He focussed on the landing pad again. There was a squat, long-bodied craft there with two stubby fins at the rear. He'd never seen the design before, but that was no surprise; in an Imperium of a million worlds, there were all sorts of small ships out there. Maybe the custom ship of some rich noble, it certainly had sleek lines.

It reminded him of something.

No matter. He returned his attention to the crowd. With one final gesture, and a proclamation of 'The Emperor protects!', he retreated into the tower main. The crowds were cheering loudly; for the moment, at least, doubt had been dispelled.

"Very inspiring, lord," said Lakon, and the other rulers murmured assent. No doubt they didn't remember a word of it either.

Tyrathlion nodded vaguely. His mind kept coming back to the ship. "Governor, what sort of defences does this planet have?" he asked without thinking.

Lakon looked at him, puzzled. It was Asphal Wirida who replied; he was a anxious-looking man who probably had memorised the speech, but only in case he was quizzed on it later. "With the reinforcements from the sector defence fleet, two defence platforms, eight ground-based weapons batteries, four System Monitors, thirty frigates, ten cruisers, an Oberon-class battleship, and the Dauntless that you came on. For ground forces, we have the PDF and several wings of support fighters, gunships and transports. Why do you ask, my lord?"

Tyrathlion wasn't entirely sure. "Curiosity," he said, trying to inject carelessness into his tone. What was it about that ship that had worried him so?

The Remnant shuttle. _That_ was what it reminded him of. Lengthen the hull, make the wings smaller, flatten the cockpit…

No. Coincidence, surely!

One of the first things drummed into Inquisitorial recruits is that coincidence should never be assumed.

"I need to find out about a ship that I saw on the landing pad," he said abruptly.

Wirida nodded. "I make it a habit of personally screening all traffic that comes to that landing pad," he said with a sort of enthusiastic anxiety. "Which one?"

Tyrathlion moved to a window and pointed at it.

Wirida frowned. "Ah. Yes… that's the personal vessel of Captain Gathrus, of the merchant vessel _Graceful Transit_. It entered orbit shortly before your ship did."

Perhaps it was a coincidence. "The records all checked out?"

The other nodded. "It was drafted into a convoy to Xephryon III, and is currently off duty. The transmissions and codes all checked out."

Tyrathlion began to turn away, and then alarm bells began to ring. "Where did the convoy depart from?"

"Some mining world or other. I forget the name."

"Haemosur?"

"That's the one."

Haemosur. Xephryon III. The lost convoys. A ship similar to Remnant designs. The method of attack on Quaola.

"Governor," said Tyrathlion with a calm that belied his hammering heart as it all clicked together, "Place your forces on full alert. I believe we are about to be invaded. Run a full scan of the freighter _Graceful Transit_ and inform me of the result instantly."

Lakon gaped, and then pulled himself together. "At once, lord!" He moved to a wall control panel and began speaking rapidly into the vox there.

"Is there anything else, my lord?" asked Lady Priaris in slightly distraught tones.

"Yes. I need a secure, private vox transmitter." And for someone on this world to have had some bad luck, he added silently.

Lakon returned. "As you have ordered, lord Inquisitor. The top level of the tower houses a control room; shall we proceed there?"

"Lord Tyrathlion first needs to use a secure vox channel," said Priaris, a touch of inter-familial rivalry returning to her tones.

"Of course, of course… there is a room adjoining the control centre that has just such a facility," blustered Lakon. He pressed a button, the lift doors opened, and they entered. There was a jolt as the lift moved rapidly upwards, and then it opened to reveal the heart of Bisk Primus' military operations.

Like most such facilities, it was a mess of instruments, control panels, and general business as PDF commanders put their forces on full alert. Lakon indicated a side door, and Tyrathlion went through it.

As promised, a large vox-set nestled inside. He closed the door behind him, reached for the set… and paused. This was breaking just about every law there was on the matter, all for a hunch. What if this was just a scouting force?

It didn't matter. Not with the Remnant.

He switched on the set, entered a set of frequencies, and said "Imperator Deus, tu suplico. Astra gamma epsilon omega zero-zero-nine-four-seven-five-nine delta. Respond."

Static.

Tyrathlion repeated the words.

More static.

Then a voice replied. "Psi nine-five-zero-zero-four omega omega one-four-nine. Imperator protega. The heavens summon?"

Tyrathlion breathed a sigh of relief. "The heavens are blinded. Burning flame commands, the horror beyond."

Pause. "Burning flame is refused. Avenger is not flame's toy. When the heavens summon, dagger will respond."

He grimaced. This was always going to be a tricky job. "Avenger must respond. Radicals' heresy occurs, horror beyond inbound. Avenger must steal its eyes, for shield's sake."

Another pause. "Known one cannot respond. Avenger is steel to such pattern."

"Bureaucracy be damned!" said Tyrathlion, slipping out of the code language for a moment. "Avenger will be quiescent upon double-blade. Burning flame has authority!"

There was another, very long pause, and for a moment he wondered if the other had disconnected. "Known one shall respond," the other said finally in reluctant tones.

Tyrathlion leaned back, releasing a breath he had not known he was holding.

As he re-entered the main control room, there was great tension in the air.

"What's news of the _Graceful Transit_?" he asked.

"We did a scan, sir," replied one of the many officers scattered around the room. "Nothing unusual at first, but then we found this attached to its rear section…" He pointed to a hologram that dominated the centre of the room. It showed the translucent shape of the rear end of a standard Imperial transport, and along the sides nestled four additional engines. They seemed to be attached to the hull by massive clamps.

"Well? Modifications, nothing out of the ordinary," objected Lakon.

"Except that they're generating an energy field that is unlike anything on record," the officer continued. "It's faint, like they're switched off, but it's there."

"Sir! One of our outer satellites just gave a proximity alert, but there doesn't seem to be anything there!"

"Show me," said Tyrathlion.

The hologram changed to an image being broadcast by the satellite. There didn't seem to be anything there, but…

With a set of flashes, triangle-ships spat into realspace, closely followed by smaller vessels. As the Remnant battlefleet slid into the system, one was obscured… and Tyrathlion picked out the shape of another triangle right next to the satellite. The jet-black monster that had been at Quaola.

Unless there was more than one of the stealth-variants.

"Sir, I have fifty triangles of various sizes and two hundred other vessels. They're moving into battle formation. All defences are moving to attack."

"No. Hold the ships back at the planet," interjected Tyrathlion. "We're vastly outmatched here."

"Incoming message, sir."

Tyrathlion hesitated. Was it worth hearing what the Remnant had to say?"

Lakon made the decision for him. "Let's hear it," he said.

A cool, authoritative voice sounded across the room. "Inhabitants of this world, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer _Wraith_. We are not your enemy. On the contrary, we are here to aid you against two great foes. We offer you a place within the new Galactic Empire; in return for your support, you will be defended against reprisals and brought wonders that you have never dreamed of."

Tyrathlion motioned to open a transmission back. "Remnant vessel, your offer is meaningless. You cannot offer anything that these people do not already have in abundance. Withdraw or be destroyed."

The voice chuckled. "We have plenty to offer you. Survival, for a start. As I said, this world has two great enemies."

"And the Remnant is one of them," the Inquisitor spat back.

"The first is the 'great' Imperium of Mankind," the other replied coolly. "A more authoritarian, vicious, _primitive_ society is hard to imagine. We do not come as destroyers, but as civilisers. May I now speak to someone who is not a lackey of said organisation, but someone of authority on this world?"

"I am Governor Andre Lakon, elected ruler of Bisk," said Lakon before Tyrathlion could signal him not to reply.

"Excellent. I am Master Lethkas, Lord of the Sith. Does our offer interest you, Governor?"

"Of course not," said Lakon, but there was a tinge of doubt in his voice.

"Perhaps this is not the best time or place to discuss such matters. To prove our good will, we are here to aid you against your _other_ enemy. This planet is in mortal peril."

"What from?" replied Tyrathlion before Lakon could display any more signs of weakness.

"I think you call them 'Tyranids'," the Sith Lord replied.

There was dead silence.

"A routine scouting mission encountered a large force of space-borne lifeforms that matched descriptions of Tyranid Hive Ships in our databanks. We triangulated their vector, and concluded that they will arrive here in… three hours time."

"Impossible," said Tyrathlion, recovering from his shock. "There haven't been any reports of Tyranids in this area."

"Based on their vector, the last system they were in is over a thousand light-years away. Believe me… Inquisitor Tyrathlion… you need our help to survive."

"How do you know my name?"

"Our spies have been on Bisk for some time now. Preparing for our arrival… three hours, men of Bisk. Three hours to decide whether you want our aid."

The channel closed, and chaos decended.


	9. Cometh The Hour

The Oberon-class battleship _Purity_ was as still as any starship that size could be and not be derelict. All looked through the viewports, waiting for the first signs of the Tyranids.

And at the harmless-looking Star Destroyers. _It was amazing_, Tyrathlion thought, _how a ship so small could cause so much destruction._

There had been no question about whether or not to accept the Remnant's offer. Bisk had no chance of surviving a Tyranid incursion without aid, and at least the Remnant seemed human. There were no illusions that this was any sort of lasting truce, but for the moment, survival was the key issue. A distress signal had been sent out, but it was probable that nothing would respond in time to fight off the Remnant.

To make up for the severe imbalance, Tyrathlion was hoping that the fact that the Star Destroyers made up the outer defence grid would destroy a lot of both enemies. The Imperium fleet had arrayed itself directly around the planet, a final line before the xenos could begin landing their monstrosities on the surface. Should that happen, it would be between the PDF and Remnant troops to hold them off.

The number of transports launched by the Star Destroyers staggered him. For a ship the size of frigate, they were highly efficient warships, carriers and combat transports. Reports from the surface had spoke of huge numbers of white-armoured warriors and heavy walkers.

He'd seen the deployment compared to that of the PDF, and it both irritated and worried him. The defensive logic was unquestionable, yet so was the offensive should the Remnant turn on them, as was inevitable.

He froze. Something was on the edge of his mind, an invasive presence that was intensely uncomfortable. At that same moment, the tactical officer looked up with a kind of empty terror. He didn't need to say a word. Everyone knew what it meant.

"Commodore, the Remnant is moving to engage. Orders?"

Commodore Noth took a deep breath. "How many are there?"

"We're outnumbered nearly two to one, even with the Remnant ships. Five hundred and twelve assorted bioships."

"Hold position," ordered Tyrathlion. "Let the Remnant attack if they wish. The defence of Bisk is our priority."

"Yes, my lord. I'm receiving requests to open fire with torpedoes and nova cannons from the rest of the fleet."

"Permission granted. The sooner we thin those ranks, the better."

Over fifty two-hundred-foot plasma torpedoes erupted from the cruisers and Cobra destroyers, while a streak of white fire streaked from the nova cannons of the two Dominator cruisers. The battle for Bisk had begun.

* * *

"The Imperium fleet is remaining in position but has opened fire with their long-range weapons, milord."

Lethkas smiled faintly. Waiting to pick over the survivors of the clash, were they? "No matter. We expected them to do that. Order the fleet to open fire the moment they get in range. Try to maintain your distance; remember that spaceborne lifeforms are dangerous at close range."

"Yes, milord. Our fighters and Scimitars have been launched and are awaiting orders."

"Hold them back for the moment. We'll see what effect our turbolasers have first."

"Aye, sir. Firing solutions locked."

"Fire at will."

The Star Destroyer resonated with the force of one hundred heavy turbolasers discharging at the distant enemies.

Lethkas scrutinised the combat hologram that dominated the centre of the _Wraith_'s bridge. As the first specks of weapons' fire met the Tyranid lines, the formation began to alter.

The small escort ships were forming a perimeter to block off the Remnant's fire, he realised. They were tough little bastards, too, judging by the amount of firepower they were shrugging off.

"Turbolasers, focus fire on target 220."

"Aye sir, turbolasers locking."

Target 220, the lead 'Kraken' species bioship slowed as the blasts hammered home. Its icon on the hologram flickered, and then vanished. Lethkas closed his eyes briefly as the Force flooded with the death throes of a creature bigger than he had ever conceived of before.

_And that was just an escort_, he reminded himself. He felt more deaths. Five down. Not bad, considering the range. "Coordinate fire patterns. Clear out those escorts so we can get clear shots at the Leviathans."

"Sir, the Tyranids are launching… I'm not sure whether they're ordnance or fighters," said the sensors officer in mild confusion.

"We'll find out soon enough," said Lethkas calmly. "Avenger squadrons, prepare to intercept. Lancer frigates to the vanguard."

"Several of their larger vessels are inbound, Master. Ten cruisers and thirty escorts breaking off, similar numbers heading for the Imperium forces. The remainder are continuing to head for the planet."

Lethkas inwardly winced. He'd badly misjudged the Tyranids, it would seem – he had hoped that the immediate threat would attract them into dealing with the Remnant and Imperium first, where the superior agility and use of a modified Thrawn Pincer would provide a key advantage. Apparently, the urge to begin the invasion was stronger than that of self-preservation.

The ground forces would have a tougher time of it than anticipated.

"Focus fire on the cruisers. Hopefully we can break their command structure and confuse the smaller ones." He hesitated for a moment. "Order Scimitar Alpha Alpha through Alpha Psi to commence attack runs on the escorts. Deploy Avenger squadrons Gamma Alpha through Delta Alpha for cover, Marg Sabl closure manoeuvre. It might confuse them."

"Squadrons moving."

It was a gamble, but he doubted that spaceborne lifeforms like Tyranids had much grasp of tactics. They would operate through blunt force and basic cunning. _All life searches for patterns…_ he mused. The apparent disorder of a Marg Sabl was the best bet for dealing with the intercepting forces quickly.

And time was of the essence…

* * *

"6079, check the basement."

The stormtrooper in question obeyed instantly, the squat E-11 checking the darkness of the flooded basement. Nothing.

The unit continued its investigation of the house as a possible defensive position, scanning for weaknesses. 6079's failure to return was not noticed.

Finally, as the unit prepared to move out, having concluded that the building was too structurally unsound, 6079 emerged from the basement. The white armour was rather stained by the muddy water, but there was nothing else out of the ordinary. "Nothing to report, sir."

The stormtroopers moved on.

Colonel Ketrin eyed his opposite number uneasily. Sure there were women in the PDF – after all, the Imperium needed every able-bodied fighter it could muster. But this Remnant warrior was another thing entirely. He instinctively disliked anyone who seemed to disdain the use of real armour, and thought little of her flashy technology. Besides, he felt that having someone that alluring in a battle was simply asking for fatal mistakes from distraction.

"Are you _listening_, Colonel?" Kalinda, for her part, didn't like Ketrin much either. She recognised the type – a rather bitter old soldier without the skill or importance to have gained a more important command, and she had little time for incompetents. "As I was saying, our AT-ATs will be more than capable of providing mid-to-long range fire support, but we lack the short-range tanks that you seem to have. Hence this deployment. Besides," she added with a little poisonous barb, "This is your world. Shouldn't you be on the front line defending it?"

The Colonel puffed up like an enraged bullfrog, and the Sith had to conceal a smile. When in doubt, try to provoke someone into doing what you want. "Very well," he growled. "The PDF will take the front, and we'll show you how real men go to war. But if you withdraw those soldiers of yours, I'll make sure you pay for it."

Kalinda was saved the trial of preventing a contemptuous smirk by the squawk of the comms array. "Revenant Alpha copies," she said, switching the set on.

"Revenant, this is Spectre Alpha. The Tyranids didn't buy it – large forces are moving to block us and the Imperium fleet, but a large portion is still on its way to the planet. Prepare for imminent invasion."

Kalinda clenched her fist in a mixture of excitement over the coming battle, frustration at not having more time to prepare, and a few shades of fear at facing what might be her toughest opponents yet. "Copy that, Spectre. We'll hold them until you can move to support."

She flicked through the channels. "Spotters, we've got incoming. I want to know _exactly_ where they'll be landing. Revenant Alpha out."

* * *

Prey fought.

Prey would be consumed.

Tyranids have no concept of defeat. The hive mind gives a certain arrogance towards death. How can one die as long as the hive mind survives?

Guard-parts were lost. No matter. So much life so close. Orb-parts were ready to fall.

Mycetic spores began raining out from the hiveships, their contents waking rapidly from dormancy.

Mind-part injured. Guard-parts moved to block the green stings of the prey-holders.

Pain. Skin torn. Insides melting. Guard-parts unable to block.

The Leviathan writhed in its final moments as turbolaser fire from a dozen Star Destroyers hammered through its nerves, drops of blood the size of tanks spraying.

Mind-part gone.

Irrelevant. It would be replaced.

A psychic shockwave exploded outwards from the dying hiveship, and its brethren took notice. The time to calve would come soon.

But for now, there were prey-holders to consume.

* * *

"Razorfiends inbound! _Ultima Victor_ has been boarded, genestealers on the gunnery decks –"

"– Inbound carrier forms, Thunderbolts moving to intercept –"

Tyrathlion stood motionless on the deck, watching the spectacle unfold. Naval tactics were not his strong point, so he satisfied himself with observing the tactical display.

It wasn't good. Enough Tyranids had got through the initial volleys to run amok in the Imperial lines, and although broadside volleys were making them suffer, ships were still being lost. The light representing the cruiser _Ultima Victor_ winked out along with a mob of droneships as its plasma reactors overloaded. A Razorfiend cruiser soon followed as it was overwhelmed by the solid sheets of fire being unleashed upon it by the _Purity_ and a unit of Sword escorts.

At least the Remnant was getting similar treatment. Three Star Destroyers and five smaller ships had been destroyed by the solid muscle and claws of the Tyranids as they were cornered against the planet. Remnant firepower was making a difference, though, as was the incredibly organised way that they focused their weapons on individual targets. Imperial Admirals would kill for that kind of precise command-and-control system.

It would be a long day.

* * *

Kalinda scrutinised the display again, then nodded. "Fire at will."

The MAS-2XB turbolaser artillery cannon gave a shriek that echoed for several kilometres as it fired a green blast of energy towards the distant Tyranid swarms as they assembled. Several dozen mobs of Gaunts and Warriors, along with a Carnifex, were incinerated by the laser bolt. It didn't last long. In the time it took for the huge artillery weapon to recharge its capacitors, more mycetic spores landed, disgorging more of the tenacious aliens.

Kalinda nodded in satisfaction anyway. The MAS was too expensive for mass-production, and arguably not cost-effective, but here the sheer force of its shots would help to even the odds a bit. "AT-ATs, open fire when they get in range. Spotters, are they continuing to land there?"

The walkers braced themselves, and then began spitting out heavy laser fire. They were near their maximum firing range, and many shots simply dissipated or missed, but it was still thinning the ranks.

_Too easy. Even with orbital pressure, this is a killing ground._ Abruptly, she looked up with a premonition.

Through the clouds, a huge winged shape drifted down. Tiny shapes branched off from it and then dived. As the Hydra flak batteries of the PDF began opening up, she realised what it was.

It was a Tyranid. Cries of "HARRIDAN!" echoed through the PDF communications, and then the monster was diving for them along with its brood of gargoyles.

Kalinda swore sharply. The creature slammed into one of the AT-ATs as the gargoyles swarmed over the Stormtroopers and Imperial Guard. While they had enough soldiers to deal with them, it was delaying… and the Harridan was another matter.

The sheer mass hitting the side of the walker was too much, and it overbalanced as its claws ripped along the armour. Quickly the remaining AT-ATs began moving, trying to get out of their formation. It might be ideal for long-range bombardment, but now they were sitting ducks. Another walker died as the Harridan's biocannon tore through the neck, severing it and leaving the headless body motionless.

The Hydra batteries finally locked on, and blazed at the monster, disregarding the AT-ATs. The autocannon shells ripped the thing open, and it fell to the ground with a shrieking roar, while the walkers shrugged off the explosive rounds with just a little scarring.

Mortally wounded but still alive, the Harridan crawled towards the Stormtroopers, who greeted it with staggered E-11 fire. It ignored the blasts, the pain small compared to that of the autocannon wounds, and Kalinda felt it was time to intervene.

Lightsabre igniting with a familiar snap-_hiss_, she charged towards the Tyranid flyer, calling on the Force to leap high onto its back. It shrieked angrily, but too many muscles were torn to throw her off, so it called on its support. Gargoyles left their attacks, many being shot apart as they disengaged, but there were still a lot to attack her.

_Target rich environment. Just the way I like it._ She raised her sabre to a guard position, firing her disruptor pistol to thin the ranks, senses tensed. She ducked, leapt and spun through the hail of hot green bioplasma, then she was hacking through the swarm.

The gargoyles were crude fighters, animalistic and blunt in their slashes and bites, but what they lacked in skill, they made up for in numbers and agility, hovering up beyond her reach to fire their symbiotic weapons and bioplasma before diving to use their claws. Still, they were little challenge for her, each delicate slice of her sabre parting chitin and flesh, each disruptor shot reducing a thorax to ashes, each burst of Force Lightning sending a brood into oblivion. Their sheer numbers worked against them, stopping many from getting to her at a time… but the Sith warrior knew that there were limits to her abilities.

Finally one slipped through her guard, a razor-edged tail slashing across her stomach. It was just a scratch, but she stumbled slightly, allowing more claws to find their mark. In seconds it would be over in a flurry of bites and swipes.

There was only one option left. Pouring all her pain, fear and battle-rage into one discharge of the Force, a wave of destructive power blasted out from her skull, blowing the gargoyles away from her, screeching in death-throes. The remnants spiralled away in confusion, and were shot down by the Stormtroopers.

Kalinda paused, aching to rest after such an exertion, but her job was not yet done. Summoning her second wind, she sprinted along the length of the still-living Harridan, and plunged her sabre into its skull. It shuddered, gave one last groan, and died.

"My lady? Are you all right?"

Kalinda looked up to see a Stormtrooper captain offering a hand. She ignored it and hopped down from the skull to the ground. "I'll be fine, Captain. Status."

* * *

Under the city, tall beings stirred. The hive had come, finally.

It was time to attack and destroy the heart of the prey.

No sound was emitted. None was needed.

The largest of them blinked in the darkness, feeling out the messages of the hive. Strange. Rare that the hive mind was focused on one warrior. The deaths of the gargoyles and Harridan played through its mind, and it flexed its claws. The prey responsible would feed the brood. There was no doubt in its mind, only cool certainty.

With the barest scrape of claws on stone, with its genestealer brood following, the Broodlord headed for the surface.

* * *

_Well, I'm back... finally... and hope that you all enjoy the latest chapter of Empires Collide. Writing out the opening parts of the Tyranid attack was a nightmare, hence the long delay. Hopefully from here, progress will be faster._


	10. Discontinuation notice

Well, folks. 32,000 hits, 49 favourites, 58 alerts and 130 reviews. That's double the record for my next most popular story. I figure you're all owed something, even if it is bad news. Well, given some of the reviews I've had, not everyone's going to be unhappy :P

This is the official notice that EC will not be continued. I've held off in the vague thought that someday I might return and finish, but the honest truth is that my drive and interest has long since vanished.

That said, a reboot is not out of the question. Third time lucky, eh? Just don't expect it for a while. University and other projects (notably my pure 40k Nuns with Guns effort, Faith and Hellfire) will be keeping me busy.

Apologies to the fans, but some things are not meant to be.


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